


And Then There Were Three

by swtalmnd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Courtship, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-03
Packaged: 2018-01-14 04:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1252357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape asks Draco and Harry to participate in the first round of his Petitioner's Courtship as a favour, and they both allow themselves to consider his suit more seriously than anyone expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is from 2007, but I couldn't be bothered to go find the original dates of posting on every chapter, so there you are. Enjoy!

"What are you doing here?" Harry hissed at Malfoy, before allowing the maitre d' to seat him at his designated place.

Malfoy unfolded his napkin with an older, more refined version of the arrogance he'd always had, something that might become dignity in another year, or decade. "You made no effort to learn about this custom, did you?" he shot back, sounding disapproving and annoyingly self-righteous.

"No," said Harry bluntly, shaking out his own napkin and spreading the thick linen over his lap. "Professor Snape said he'd take care of all the details, and I didn't have to worry about it if I'd do him the favour of showing up today."

"I didn't see fit to inform him of your presence, as it doesn't affect his participation," said Snape, coming up behind them both to stand between their chairs. "I doubt Mr. Potter will wish to stay beyond this first stage of the Petitioner's Courtship. I would of course welcome both of you as long as you wish to participate, though I am aware that neither of you is likely to become my spouse." He said the last with distaste, glancing around the table at the dozen unoccupied settings there, each with its own placard.

"I'm sorry it came to this, Severus," said Malfoy, much to Harry's bemusement. Malfoy's face was soft and sympathetic, which didn't make sense to Harry at all.

Harry swallowed, then gave in to his curiosity and asked, "Why is it so terrible? I mean, he's got his pick of, what, thirteen witches and wizards?"

"It's not like that," said Malfoy, shooting Harry a glare that said clearly as words that he thought Harry was being an insensitive idiot. "He has to be sufficiently charming that enough people stay through each round, and someone at the end is willing to marry him so he can get his petition recognized by the Wizengamot. We're not wooing him, Harry, he's got to woo us."

Harry glanced involuntarily over at Snape, trying to imagine the irascible man wooing _anyone_ , let alone himself. "So, at the end of dinner people will, what, cop out and say so long, and if enough of us don't stay, that's it?"

"In a nutshell, yes. I must sufficiently convince seven candidates tonight to allow my suit on a more serious level. There will be additional," he made a face, "culling, if you will, down to five, and then three, over the course of the Courtship."

"And all this is so... what?" asked Harry. The letter had been terribly vague, though Harry had to admit that the resulting curiosity was what had tempted him to accept the invitation in the first place.

Malfoy rolled his eyes, glancing toward the door where the maitre d' was speaking with two finely dressed witches. "He wants to be allowed to have an heir to the Prince line, rather than having to start over as Snapes. His mother, despite her unfortunate choice in husbands, held a small legacy for him in the form of her breeding, and her family's position in society, reduced though it was by generations of poor investments."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, for that... succinct explanation," said Snape wryly; obviously he hadn't intended to tell Harry some or all of that, and Harry shot Malfoy a grateful look. Before Harry could ask any more questions, Snape turned away to greet the maitre d' and the two witches Harry had noted earlier, along with another wizard. "So good of you all to indulge me this way," said Snape, his tone almost welcoming, though there was a hint of chagrin in it, just enough to suggest a genuine regret for any inconvenience it might cause.

Harry had to forcibly restrain his jaw from dropping. Snape was being _charming_ , making small talk and seating the women himself, while leaving the staff to show the wizard to his seat. Harry leaned over to Malfoy and asked, "Is he always like this when I'm not around?"

Malfoy snorted delicately and shook his head. "No, you've just never warranted proper handling. No use wasting manners on a Muggle, as they say," said Malfoy, a wicked twinkle in his eye daring Harry to take offence.

Harry looked down at the array of silverware around the stack of gilt-edged plates in front of him, and swallowed. "I'm totally out of my league, aren't I?"

"And is this Harry Potter I see?" came a voice to Harry's right, bringing Harry's head around fast enough that he thought the look of sympathy on Malfoy's face must have been an illusion born of whiplash.

"I, er, yes?" Harry replied, blinking owlishly up at a rather large witch in disturbingly diaphanous robes.

"Don't mind our Harry," said Malfoy warmly, "He's not used to civilization yet; did you know he spent last year in the wilds of Peru gathering totems for Gringotts?"

Harry winced as a rather sharp elbow hit him in the ribs, and he glanced down at the placard next to the imposing woman. "Ah, yes, please excuse my manners, Miss Frumple."

"Oh, please, do call me Frannie," she said, moving her bulk with surprising grace as Snape came around to seat her. "I'm surprised Snape managed to attract the likes of you two, honestly," she added in a conspiratorial tone, "You boys are quite a cut above the rest of us old maids, aren't you?"

Harry blushed at that, and was once again saved when Malfoy spoke. "Nonsense," he said, his usual aristocratic drawl just slightly exaggerated, "I'm sure you all come from the most impeccable backgrounds, and any one of us would be considered a catch."

"Except me," said Harry with a lopsided smile. "I've no manners to speak of, and not much else to offer besides."

Harry pretended he couldn't hear Malfoy's muttered, "You can say that again," over Frannie's tittering laugh.

It was easy to ignore in favour of the steady trickle of witches and wizards filling all the seats, until Snape himself finally got to stop hovering and take the empty fourteenth place. Most of the names meant nothing to Harry, though once in a while a surname would seem familiar from somewhere, and Malfoy seemed to approve of most of the candidates.

Once everyone had settled, Snape smiled without a single hint of a sneer and gave a short speech. "I'd like to thank you all for accepting my invitation tonight; I know most of you have eschewed marriage for one reason or another, though of course my youngest guests may simply not have gotten around to it yet." There was a chorus of titters, and Harry blushed while Malfoy simply looked smug; everyone else was Snape's age or older. "I appreciate you all considering my suit, and hopefully this first meeting will help to show you all that I have something to offer you and your households alike."

Harry managed not to jump when most of the plates in front of him disappeared, though he was confused when they were replaced not by a menu but a steaming bowl of soup, apparently a different kind for each of them. "I have taken the liberty of arranging tonight's menu according to your specific palates," said Snape, nodding at the plates. "I do hope you enjoy my hospitality."

Harry took a nervous sip of his unfamiliar-looking soup and found it was a warm, spicy pumpkin, a grown-up version of the juice he'd been drinking since his first year in school. The flavour brought with it a wave of nostalgia, and Harry realized that what had seemed like typical high-handedness was actually part of the Courting; Snape was showing that he was capable of catering to their individual preferences. "It's perfect, Pr- Severus, thank you," said Harry, hoping the use of Snape's first name wasn't out of order.

He got an approving glance from Malfoy, whose soup was a thick, creamy green that Harry could only hope was to his taste. "Yes, Severus, I'm surprised you remembered that cucumber and avocado soup is my favourite," said Malfoy, and Harry tried very hard not to turn a bit green himself.

The rest of the table began to chime in with their compliments, which Snape took with surprising grace, and conversation flowed from there around the table in little eddies, as Snape appeared to have made some effort to seat people near their acquaintances. "So," said Malfoy, once Frannie was distracted by her neighbour, and the man on Malfoy's other side equally engaged, "What did you end up with?" he asked, nodding toward Harry's mostly-empty bowl.

"It's pumpkin, want a taste?" said Harry, proffering the spoon to Malfoy, unaware of the eyes on them.

"Ah, sure," said Malfoy, looking faintly uncomfortable as he leaned in and took a delicate sip from the end of the spoon. He leaned back with a little smile on his face and said, "It tastes like Hogwarts."

Harry grinned. "Yes, that's what I thought -- like pumpkin juice and spiced cider and winter tea all in one."

"It's a good choice for you," said Malfoy, fidgeting with his own spoon. "You always were happiest at school."

Harry blinked, then shrugged and smiled sheepishly. "It's the first place I was ever happy, and I guess I just haven't found the right one since." Harry knew his career at Gringotts, first as Bill's apprentice and now as a Cursebreaker in his own right, was closely followed by the wizard press, and he also knew that the Daily Prophet thought he'd been turned into a thrill-seeker by his past, while Witch Weekly avowed that only the love of a good witch -- or wizard, they weren't that picky these days -- would cure Harry's wanderlust.

Malfoy chuckled. "I'd offer you a taste of mine, but I saw your face earlier," he said with a wink. "It's chilled, though, I mean... it's really quite refreshing."

Harry bit his lip, and then shrugged. It couldn't be worse than beetle paste. "Sure, what the heck," he said, leaning forward with his eyes half-lidded and mouth just a bit open.

Malfoy tipped a few dribbles of the creamy stuff into Harry's mouth, and Harry leaned back and licked his lips with a smile. "You're right, it's really pretty tasty," he said, pondering the crisp, sweet flavour. "I don't think it'd be my favourite, but I can see the appeal."

Malfoy laughed, putting his spoon back in the bowl just in time for them both to vanish, followed this time by a small salad. Harry glanced around and saw that everyone's food had changed over, and once again the plates held a wide variety of dishes, from a plate of what looked like mozzarella cheese and tomato slices in front of Frannie, to the bewildering variety of greens that Snape had ordered for himself. Harry had a fairly simple salad of lettuce and young dandelion greens, with apples, candied walnuts, chunks of cheese and a tangy dressing on top. "This looks good, too," said Harry, waiting for Malfoy to choose a fork before picking up his own and digging in.

"Don't let the act fool you," said Malfoy, delicately nibbling on an endive leaf, "Severus is a very astute man, who can learn a lot about a person from observing their habits."

"Makes sense, I guess," said Harry, though he wasn't quite gauche enough to mention Snape's career as a spy in mixed company. For all he knew, half these people had quietly supported Voldemort, though it was obvious that none were Death Eaters; after the end of the war, a fashion for short or open sleeves had come about, and all the forearms at the table were bare of both cloth and the Mark, except for Snape's. Snape was wearing his usual all-encompassing layers, though Harry noticed they were much finer than they had been in his teaching days, silk and velvet in a green so dark Harry had mistaken it for black at first.

Malfoy looked as though he was waiting for Harry to put his foot in his mouth, so Harry put in an apple slice instead, enjoying the bite of vinegar with the sweet-tart apple taste. He'd learned to appreciate food since his youth, travelling with Bill in exotic climes and eating whatever was on offer, whether it was delicious curries or, well, beetle paste. "He's got excellent taste, anyway," said Harry, watching as each person discovered this course to be just as much of a delight as the last.

"Yes, he does," said Malfoy, giving Harry a look that, were it not Malfoy, Harry would have interpreted as flirtatious. "This restaurant is known for its freshness of ingredients as well as its price tag; Severus has to be gambling everything on this Courtship."

"Well, why don't you marry him?" Harry asked curiously. "I mean, you obviously get along and all that."

Malfoy shrugged, something in the set of his shoulders telling Harry that he'd inadvertently stepped on a sensitive topic. "The Courtship would have to be carried out regardless," said Malfoy nonchalantly, taking a sip of the wine that had appeared with this course. There had been some for the last course as well, but Harry had no head for it, so he'd stuck to the iced, lemon-tinged water in his other glass.

Harry took a few bites of salad, feeling awkward and strangely regretful for having caused Malfoy discomfort, which was an entirely new sensation for him. After he washed down his chagrin and food with a single sip of his own dry, fruity wine, he said softly, "Told you I was bollocks at this."

Malfoy shot him a look of surprise, then laughed. "You couldn't have known," he said, shaking his head. "You don't have manners, but that sincere goofball thing seems to really work for you," he added teasingly.

"Well, we can't all grow up to be rich playboys," said Harry, smiling in relief. He wasn't sure why he cared if Malfoy kept liking him, but now that he wasn't exchanging insults and hexes with the prat, he found that the two of them had more in common than he'd imagined.

They made small talk about Quidditch for a while after that, the man to Malfoy's left joining in for a bit as he turned out to be one of the board members for the Chudley Cannons, a name that immediately brought to mind memories of Ron and his hopeless devotion to them.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, after they'd been speaking for a few minutes, "I didn't catch your name?"

"I don't think I introduced myself, my apologies," he replied, giving Harry a nod as it wouldn't have been polite to shake hands across Malfoy's food, currently in the form of a palate-cleansing tangerine ice; Harry's was mango. "I'm Manchester Nicholas III, and you of course are Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy."

Harry was amused that he knew them both, though these days Malfoy made the papers more often than Harry did. While Harry stayed out of the public eye whenever he could, Malfoy had chosen a more political career, working to bring the wizarding world back to its former glory by founding, funding and chairing the Diagon Alley Restoration Committee. "Harry, please," he said, smiling over at the thin, tweedy wizard.

"You may call me Manchester, of course," he replied excitedly, and Harry had a feeling that it was taking all of Malfoy's willpower not to say something cutting.

Instead, he said, "You're both welcome to call me Draco," then took an elegant bite of his ice.

"Thank you, Draco, Harry," said Manchester, digging into his own yellowish confection. There was a pause while they all ate, and then Manchester ventured, "Are you going to be staying in London for the duration of Severus' courting, Harry, or are you just filling seats, as it were?"

Harry glanced over at Snape, who was chatting in what appeared to be an amiable fashion with the two witches to his left. "I haven't received my new assignment from the bank yet," he prevaricated, eyes sidling past Malfoy guiltily to address Manchester. "But I'll stay for as long as I'm still being Courted, anyway."

Harry glanced back and found Snape staring at him, sending a prickling frisson of awareness over his skin. He took a sip of water to wet a mouth gone suddenly dry, and then glanced back at Malfoy. "How about you, Draco, how's the restoration going?"

Malfoy lit up and launched into an explanation of their progress that Harry had to admit was sort of fascinating, if only because Malfoy seemed to actually care about what he was doing. Apparently one of Fortescue's dozen illegitimate sons had come forward and used the seed money to restore the ice cream parlour, even doing a Petitioner's Courtship much like Snape's for the right to his father's legacy. Ollivander reappeared from hiding and borrowed the Malfoy house elves for a single day to set his shop to rights, the only assistance he required. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had taken a small stipend and used it to paint their shop front, so it was as garish outside as in now.

That last got a laugh from Harry, who had said as much to the twins just yesterday, though not in such elegant words. "Yeah, but the kids seem to love the new look, so it's served its purpose, eh?" said Harry, finishing a last bite of his ice and wondering what was next.

"So, Harry dear," said Frannie, pulling Harry away from Malfoy's description of the renovations that were being done to Flourish & Blotts. "Will we be seeing you in the next round of Courtship, do you think?"

Harry looked over at Snape once again, and at the faces of the people around him. A few of them would stick around, but not, Harry thought, enough to make the requisite seven. "Oh, probably," he said, giving a half-hearted little smile. "I'm curious to see how Severus fulfils the requirements." That was vague enough, and didn't give away his own meagre knowledge of the whole situation.

He hoped, anyway.

Frannie didn't let him turn back, however. "Harry, dear, you must tell us where is it you've been off to this latest trip. Off to another continent, wasn't it?" She and the woman next to her, a surprisingly elderly witch named Eugenia Eggerston, kept him talking about his adventures in Peru until the main course showed up and he had an excuse to look away and examine this latest offering.

Apparently Snape felt nostalgia was the way to go with Harry, as he got a plate full of pasties arranged in an artful little spiral. Each one was a slightly different shape, from a simple half-circle and rectangle to ones shaped like a leaf, a heart, and even a star. They were smaller than a normal pasty as well, each perhaps two bites. Harry looked around the table and saw dishes as varied as one woman's bowl of shellfish in soup; Malfoy's tower of green beans, noodles, and some sort of fish on top, surrounded by a pool of sauce; Manchester's hearty plate of steak and lobster; and Snape's own rack of lamb, the sides crusted with herbs Harry could practically smell from across the table.

Harry's mouth was watering by the time his attention turned back to his plate, so he picked up a steaming diamond-shaped pasty and bit it in half. Inside there was a delicious blending of lamb, vegetables, and spices hinting more toward India than stolid old England, and Harry smiled as he chewed the unexpected treat.

His enjoyment was interrupted by a sharp kick to his left ankle. "We have utensils for a reason, Potty," hissed Malfoy, his voice holding all the contempt that Harry remembered from their youth and, strangely, intensifying the feeling of things left undone that had been growing slowly all evening. He'd left his youth behind rather abruptly, and all of a sudden he found himself eating at a table with two men he'd considered enemies in school, then allies, and now... what?

Harry rolled his eyes and ate the other half of his pasty defiantly, though he was becoming aware that his lack of manners could cause Snape difficulty later. He sipped the wine that came with his meal, a sweet, crisp drink that made him think of honey wine, then raised his glass to Snape with an ironic little smile.

"Did you wish to offer a toast, Mr. Potter?" asked Snape as the chatter around the table fell silent.

All eyes turned to Harry. "Er, yeah," said Harry, racking his brains for a suitable one. He raised his glass a little higher and said in a loud, clear voice, "To Severus, who has made a life of mended fences and, um, being more than he seems." Harry paused, getting another kick in the ankle, which spurred him to add, "May this be a new beginning for him."

"To Severus!" chorused the group, glasses of various vintages raised in Snape's direction before they all took a drink. Harry wondered if it was significant that some drank deeply while others barely let the liquid touch their lips, and made sure to have a decent sized sip of his own wine.

Snape returned Harry's raised glass finally and said, "Thank you, M- Harry," a glint to his eyes that boded ill for Harry.

As a concession, he used a fork to break open the star-shaped pasty, finding it filled with a tangy concoction of beef and sour cream that was very eastern European, and made him think inevitably of visiting Charlie two winters ago. The food had been heavy and rich, the perfect thing to ward off the bitter cold outside while Charlie, Bill, and Harry had sat inside, weathering a storm that was keeping everyone out of the dragon preserve.

Conversation quieted as everyone tucked in, and Harry couldn't help but wonder if there would be pudding after all this food. To that end he started eating just the first half of everything, wanting to see what was inside them all. The half-circle was a real Peruvian empanada, deep fried and filled with beef, onions and raisins, and Harry remembered the first time he'd had these, bought from a street vendor in Lima while they'd haggled with their guide. The circle proved to be a classic pumpkin pasty that could have come straight off the cart on the Hogwarts Express, which made Harry think of his bollixed relationship with Cho Chang and how he'd never been smooth in front of her, either. He tried not to wonder why this in turn reminded him of the toast he'd just given and moved on.

The one shaped like a leaf, complete with veins, turned out to be grilled rice flour with cheese inside, and reminded Harry of dining with clients in a little restaurant in Japan, back when he was first apprenticed and hadn't understood a word. Instead he'd nibbled the food and tried not to drink too much sake, and in the end Bill ruffled his hair and told him he'd done just fine. The next day they'd been permitted to enter a supposedly haunted shrine and, in exchange for removing the curse on the building, to take the largest of the gold statues inside.

Harry realized he was smiling like an idiot, lost in his own memories, and glanced up only to catch Snape looking at him with an expression that Harry might have called proprietary, coming from another man.

"What's putting that sort of a smile on Harry Potter's face, hm?" asked Malfoy, the sting of the words somewhat softened by the genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Just remembering," said Harry, using his fork to crack the rectangular pastry. This one turned out to be a classic Cornish pasty just the way he'd had them all his life, and it took all his willpower to hold back the goofy smile that tried to surface. "They're all different, and each one's from somewhere I've been."

Malfoy sent a speculative glance toward Snape, who had engaged the stoic wizard on his right in conversation and was rather pointedly ignoring them both. "This was the dish I had with Severus the night... well, anyway, we went to this fairly high-class Muggle restaurant that served Asian cuisine, and they had this on the menu. We go back every year we can, and I always get the same thing, because it reminds me that every day I walk free among wizards is a gift."

Harry blinked in surprise, and then let his smile out, soft and warm now that he'd heard Malfoy's story. "This one's just like the pasties at Hogwarts," said Harry, pointing to the one he'd just tried. When Malfoy looked interested, he explained each of them, leaving the heart for last -- it was the only one he hadn't yet tasted. "And we'll see what this is," said Harry, deliberately taking the point off the bottom of the heart rather than breaking it down the centre; that would have been too ill-omened, even for him.

"Well, what is it?" asked Malfoy curiously while Harry grinned and chewed.

Harry deliberately delayed with a sip of water, then nearly spoiled it by laughing at the impatient look on Malfoy's face. "It's Egyptian," he said, taking another bite of the flaky pastry. "Spiced lamb, I think, with raisins and stuff. We used to have these on the dig all the time."

"Left your heart in Egypt, did you?" said Malfoy, nearly earning his own kick to the ankle.

Harry shrugged and ate the other half of the leaf, enjoying the gooey tang of the cheese and the chewy, almost sweet dough. "No more than I left my leaf in Japan," he replied, his tone just as dry as Malfoy's.

That earned him a chuckle, and Malfoy went back to demolishing his tower of food. Harry was fascinated by the way the noodles were tied in little bundles that had to be eaten whole, each one the size of a large mouthful and easily dipped into the sauce. "You did say something about turning over a new leaf," he replied.

Harry chuckled back, sipping his wine before having the other half of his pumpkin pasty. "Well, my heart's still quite firmly with me, I'm afraid," said Harry around his mouthful.

He was saved from another lecture on manners when Frannie interjected herself into their conversation. "Surely the great Harry Potter has had some great romances in his time?"

Harry shook his head, flushing. "Nope, not really. I was a bit too busy breaking curses to go looking to pull."

This drew the attention of both Eugenia and Manchester, and suddenly nearly half the table was intently listening in. Malfoy's foot made a rather gentler connection with Harry's ankle, slipping up his calf distractingly as he tried to think of a way to come out of this with his skin, and his secrets, intact. "Besides," he added, taking a gulp of water to give him another moment to think, "A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

"We've all seen just how much of a gentleman you are, Harry," whispered Malfoy, and Harry gave in to the urge and kicked Malfoy in the ankle, getting back a bit of his own.

Fortunately, the whisper was lost to the rest of the table, drowned out by Frannie's girlish giggle. Eugenia whispered something to her and everyone else seemed to sense that the show was over, going back to their previous conversations. Harry leaned in and hissed at Malfoy, "I'm doing just fine at embarrassing myself, you don't need to help."

Harry found it amazingly gratifying to see Malfoy nearly snort his wine.

Malfoy's dignity was saved by the disappearance of everyone's plates, and though Harry was sad to see the last bites go uneaten, he was happy to still have room in his stomach when a single-serving treacle tart appeared in front of him, decorated with little pastry stars that were charmed to change shape and imitate twinkling. It took him a moment to recognize the constellation and when he did he nearly spoiled the whole thing by storming out; it was Canis Major, and its brightest star was Sirius.

"Truffles!" said Malfoy delightedly, distracting Harry from his own pudding, though he shot Snape a glare that promised later retribution. "Oh, I love these; they've got the most divine flavours and they're terribly hard to get in England this time of year." He looked, well, like a kid in a sweet shop, all the politician's artifice melting away finally, worn down by the parade of favourites and finally lost altogether.

Harry didn't know why Snape wanted them both so vulnerable, but Harry shored up his own defences, putting his fork right through the tart and breaking it apart so that the stars no longer reminded him of anything but the dozens of Hogwarts feasts he'd attended over the years. "What sort of flavours?" he asked politely, though his voice sounded flat and uninterested even to himself. He ate a bite of the tart, which annoyed him by being perfectly delicious, turning to watch as Malfoy tried to decide which to eat first.

"They're all these exotic things, to help us to appreciate the power of chocolate now that it's become so mundane," said Malfoy, warming to the subject readily, oblivious to Harry's change in mood. "This one's got curry in, and this one's got chilli from Mexico, and there's one that's rose and champagne, and this white one has olives in."

"Olives?" asked Harry, intrigued despite himself. The curry he could sort of understand; he'd had curried fruit before, and he supposed it might do for a chocolate flavour, but he couldn't imagine olives in chocolate.

"They're dried," said Malfoy. He took a sharp knife and cut the small sphere in half. "See? It's more about the essence of an olive's flavour than overwhelming you with them." He popped the half into his mouth and made an ecstatic face, obviously savouring every moment.

"I'll take your word for it," said Harry, eating another bite of tart. His wine had vanished again as well, replaced with thick Turkish coffee and a small glass of something that looked very alcoholic, probably the cognac he'd also discovered at Charlie's and grown giddy on very swiftly. He chose the coffee.

"They really are delicious," said Malfoy, undaunted.

He cut another of the truffles in half, one that had little black things on the outside, and Harry couldn't help but ask, "Those aren't ants or something, are they?"

"No," Malfoy replied, as though speaking with a dunce or possibly just Goyle, "They're black sesame seeds. It's spiced with ginger and wasabi." He ate half, making another ecstatic face as the chocolates melted on his tongue.

Harry smiled despite himself, then turned to Frannie. "What did you get?" he asked, eyeing her goo-smeared plate curiously.

"Oh, it's chocolate cake with hot fudge inside, and iceberry ice cream," she said, spooning up a bite that seemed to consist of a little of everything. "It's one of my favourites, though of course it's not really on my diet." Somehow, Harry found it fitting when she tittered.

At least this meant the meal was almost over, though Harry had all but committed himself to staying for another round. Well, Snape seemed to be making good at his end of the table, perhaps there'd be enough real candidates that Harry could bow out gracefully. "It sounds delicious," said Harry, fixing his attention back on his demolished tart, telling himself that he did not need any more conversation tonight.

Unfortunately, that just wasn't to be. Everyone's pudding vanished in a few minutes, and this time all the silverware went as well, leaving them with just their after-dinner drinks and napkins.

"I do hope you all have enjoyed this small display of my hospitality," said Snape, drawing the table's attention.

Harry wiped his mouth and took a sip of water, using the motions to watch how everyone else seemed to be taking the end of the elaborate meal. It seemed mostly smiles or satisfied looks, though not all of them were friendly; Harry could only count three he was reasonably sure would move on, and one of those was Frannie, whose giggling he wouldn't wish even on Snape.

"I would like to invite you all to share an after-dinner drink with me in the bar, which has been reserved for us this evening. I have a small token for each of you, and at that time you may indicate your willingness to entertain my suit." That last seemed to be directed at Harry and his ignorance, as the rest of them looked a bit surprised he'd mentioned it. There was a pause and a bit of rustling, and then Snape finished, "If you would care to join me?"

Snape stood, leaving his half-drunk tea and gesturing for them to precede him into the dimly lit space. It would be more intimate than the brightly-lit table, and out of the public eye. Harry nearly cried, as there would inevitably be mingling involved, and small talk, and he was bollocks at both in any language.

The rest of the group followed with varying amounts of reluctance, which made Harry wonder just what sort of private conversations they were supposed to be having in there. He hung back, snagging Malfoy's arm long enough to ask, "Is there something I should know about this bit?"

Malfoy shrugged, giving Harry that annoyingly superior look of his. "Undoubtedly," he said, brushing off Harry's lingering hand. "However, this is not the moment for me to explain."

Harry rolled his eyes and followed Malfoy into the smaller room, just managing not to jump when the door slid shut behind him, making the space a truly private one.

Well, private but for the dozen sets of eyes on them. There was a moment where it seemed the whole room was expectantly awaiting some cue that Harry didn't understand, and missed anyway because the next moment everyone was milling about, and Snape had taken up residence in one of the small, semicircular booths ringing the bar area.

"Now you can ask me stupid questions," said Malfoy, leading Harry up to the bar where a real human waited to take their orders. "I'll have a Brandy Alexander."

The bartender turned expectantly to Harry. "Oh! Um, I'll just have a butterbeer, thanks."

Harry could feel both of them inwardly rolling their eyes at him, but he stoically ignored it, instead following Malfoy's example and leaving a sickle in the small dish after accepting his mug.

The bartender moved off and Malfoy took a sip of his drink. "Here is where people really have to decide if they're willing to publicly ally themselves with Severus. Just coming to dinner tonight isn't considered a commitment, though I'm sure a few refused him before he got thirteen."

Harry nodded; he'd had the distinct impression that he wasn't a first or even second choice, himself. "All right. And what about the mingling? That seems, I don't know, dangerous somehow."

Malfoy chuckled. "Finally thinking past the next Snitch, are we?" he said teasingly. "There will be a certain amount of manoeuvring among the candidates while they feel each other out and try to figure out who's going to stick with Snape, and who's going to bail."

"Well, I don't really need to worry about that," said Harry wryly, sipping his butterbeer. "I've already made my declaration, sort of."

"You certainly did," replied Malfoy drolly, just as another wizard walked up, the thin man who'd been next to Snape at dinner. "Bartholomew Cubbins, so good to see you," said Malfoy smoothly, as though he hadn't just been about to berate Harry for whatever mistake he'd made this time.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said, giving an odd little bow. "Mr. Potter. I must admit I'm surprised to see two bachelors of your calibre here tonight."

Harry wasn't sure if he should be defending his own honour or Snape's, so he let Malfoy do the talking. "Severus worked very closely with both of us during the difficulties," said Malfoy, by far the most bland description of Voldemort's return that Harry had ever heard. "I was honoured that he would consider a closer alliance."

"Er, yeah," said Harry, when Malfoy's elbow made ungentle contact with his ribs. "Severus has always been more than he seems."

That got Harry a raised eyebrow that obviously invited elaboration, but Harry chose to ignore it in favour of taking a swig of his butterbeer. Malfoy stepped in smoothly and said, "How is your haberdashery doing, Mr. Cubbins?"

"Oh, very well, thank you," came the swift reply, a salesman's smile gracing Cubbins' thin features. "Thanks to the grant from the committee we were able to do some remodelling and get materials for a whole new summer line, and even lay in a few supplies for winter."

Harry was starting to see the usefulness of Malfoy's committee firsthand, not only in the improvements to Diagon Alley but the name it made for Malfoy, the favours that became obliquely owed as a result of his largesse. "Is yours the shop next to Madam Malkin's?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes, Five Hundred Hats," said Cubbins with a slightly warmer smile. "Have you sampled our wares?"

Harry manfully ignored the thread of innuendo and said cheerfully, "Nope! I've never been in, though I always peek in at the display on my way to get respectable wizarding clothes when I get back into town."

"Dare I ask what happens to the previous wardrobe?" said Malfoy.

Harry was glad it was dark enough to hide his flush of embarrassment. "My owl nests with them."

"You go off on your ridiculous journeys and leave your owl home alone?" said Cubbins, affronted.

"No!" said Harry, "No, that's not it, I mean, I take her with me usually, unless it's too hot, and then she lives with friends. It's just that she's been flirting with this other owl for ages now, and so she shreds my robes because she thinks the fabric will make a great nest, and I haven't got the heart to yell at her really, so when the time comes to go on another job I just buy work clothes, and I come back and there's just the one forlorn winter robe left because she doesn't like the itchy wool any more than I do."

Harry could feel Malfoy next to him, shaking with the effort of holding in his laughter. "Go on," he said miserably, "laugh. You probably have an army of house elves to keep your wardrobe impeccable. I've still got to wash my own socks."

That did it, both Malfoy and Cubbins burst out laughing, though Malfoy's was much more sincere than Cubbins' little chuckle. "I had no idea the great Harry Potter had such an interesting domestic arrangement."

Harry resisted the urge to make a face at him and said instead, "Well, when you're home as little as I am, it's not worth the effort to do more than make yourself and your pets happy."

"Pets?" asked Malfoy curiously. "I thought you only had the owl."

Harry shrugged. "I got adopted by a kneazle, mostly it lives with a neighbour." Harry didn't mention that its method of showing its displeasure at this arrangement was the other reason Harry had to regularly replace his wardrobe. "Well, maybe if I'm in town for longer this time, I'll make an effort. I've been meaning to find a new flat for a while, anyway."

"Perhaps you ought to wait until you've decided if you'll be settling down to matrimony," said Cubbins unctuously.

Harry refrained from asking him if he'd been in Slytherin, and nodded. "I suppose that's true, Severus would no doubt run a much more orderly household."

"I doubt he'd allow your owl to make a nest of your clothing, at any rate," said Cubbins with a little sniff. He appeared to have found out whatever it was he'd slithered over for, and he took his leave with a distracted little, "Gentlemen," and another of those half-bows.

"Some Slytherins make the rest of us look bad," said Malfoy disdainfully. "You really let Hedwig nest in your wardrobe?"

"Naah, she steals strips off the bottom and takes them up to the owlery," said Harry with a shrug. "I can't fault her, it's not like I don't have the money. I just want her to be happy."

Malfoy gave Harry an odd look, then sipped his drink thoughtfully. "Most of the mingling will be like that, trying to figure out what everyone else is doing here and if they're considering accepting Severus' suit, without revealing their own intentions too soon. At some point Severus will signal to you, and then I'll tell you he's done so as you'll undoubtedly miss it," said Malfoy, continuing their earlier conversation as though they hadn't just been interrupted. "You'll go over there, he'll offer you something he's made with you in mind, likely a potion, as his first token. You'll accept it, and then you're supposed to chat awhile to see if he can't charm you into staying for another round, which obviously you'll agree to."

"I'm impressed you got that out in one breath," said Harry, letting the deluge of information sink in along with the warmth of his drink.

Malfoy smirked, "I'd say that I've got far more interesting uses for controlling my breathing, but you'd probably think I meant swimming." He glanced out over the crowd, which seemed like circling sharks to Harry, trying to figure out who was predator and who was prey. "But mostly I just wanted to get it out before our next visitor."

"Shouldn't we be out there?" asked Harry, though truthfully he preferred to stay as far away as possible from the rest of the candidates.

Malfoy shook his head. "We're the biggest fish here. Eventually the whole pond will come to us."

Harry chuckled. "Good to know you'll be here to keep me from putting my foot in it."

"Now, Mr. Potter," said a handsome wizard, sidling up to the bar next to Harry, "I doubt very much you're so bumbling as all that."

Malfoy snorted, and Harry pretended he hadn't heard it. "That's very nice of you to say so, Mr...."

"Terence Lenis," he replied, then to the bartender, "Whiskey sour, please."

"Mr. Lenis," finished Harry. "What brings you here?"

"Curiosity, I suppose," said Lenis, accepting the drink and ostentatiously dropping a Galleon into the tip dish. "It's not often that one gets to be courted by someone as infamous as Snape."

Harry allowed that this was the case, and Malfoy turned sideways so he was leaning on the bar and rather disconcertingly closer to Harry as well. "And how have you found it so far, Mr. Lenis?" said Malfoy, his voice holding just the slightest edge of danger.

"Fascinating," said Lenis, unaffected by Malfoy's smooth menace. "You can really see how he managed to be a spy, if his reputation is anything to go by. Not a single sign of his reputed antisocial demeanour."

Harry smirked. "When one is surrounded by idiots," he said, quoting one of Snape's more memorable lectures in school, "one finds one's temper strained past all reason."

Lenis' drink arrived, and he used that as an excuse to flee from Malfoy's evil chuckling. "You did pay attention in Potions after all," said Malfoy, giving Harry's arm a little nudge.

"He always did command my attention, if nothing else," said Harry, looking over at Snape, currently sequestered and apparently flirting with the redoubtable Frannie.

Malfoy's eyebrows went up. "Harbouring a bit of a secret crush, Potter? I didn't even know you had same-sex tendencies."

Harry coughed, then took a sip of his butterbeer to give him a moment to think. "Let's just say I'm not really sure where my tendencies lie, but I'm not completely averse to the idea of having Severus help me figure it out."

"Oh, this is just too good," said Malfoy, leaning in just a little closer. "Are you a virgin, Potter?" he murmured, too low to be heard by curious ears.

Harry was fairly sure even the low lighting couldn't cover up the shade of red he was turning. "I've been busy, all right?"

Malfoy surprised him by not laughing, instead looking very interested. "But you'll be in town a while this time, or so you keep saying."

"I'd bet there's something in the rules against candidates nipping off for a quick shag while they decide about the suitor," said Harry dryly, concentrating very hard on not picturing any possible variation of that. When that didn't work, he imagined Frannie and Cubbins in an embrace, and that took care of any problem before it could fully come up.

"A pity," said Malfoy, turning back around to face the bartender so he could signal for a refill. "Another mug of that plebeian swill?"

Harry glanced down, surprised to find he'd nearly emptied his drink while they'd been talking. "Er, yeah," he said, finding it oddly charming when Malfoy tipped for them both. "Is this your way of getting me into your debt like the rest of them?" Harry asked teasingly, giving Malfoy's shoulder a nudge as he finished off his butterbeer.

"Somehow," said Malfoy, handing Harry his fresh drink, "I think it would take more than a sickle."

This time they both watched as two witches came sashaying over to them, the youngest of the lot besides themselves. "Ms. Malkin, Ms. Flourish. You're looking lovely tonight," said Malfoy, stepping away from the bar and once again rescuing Harry, who was beginning to see that there was more than one way to become indebted.

"Ladies," said Harry tersely, saluting them with his mug.

They tittered. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy," they said in disturbing unison, smiling just a little too brightly for Harry's comfort.

"Are you related to the shop owners?" Harry asked curiously.

"Madam is my Aunt," said Ms. Malkin, giving a little sway to show off the excellent cut of her lavender robes.

"I'm just a cousin," said Ms. Flourish with a little giggle; obviously she hadn't come from the intellectual side of the family, Harry thought uncharitably.

"Are you enjoying the Courtship dinner?" asked Harry, glancing between them and trying to figure out what had kept them from being married before this, aside from the distressing tendency to titter like empty-headed birds.

"Oh, yes," said Malkin, getting a nod of agreement from Flourish. "Severus is ever so romantic, you know, just like the dark hero of a story!"

"You'd be the handsome heroes of a different story," added Flourish with an annoying little laugh. "We'd almost stay just to see more of you two!"

"I'm sure Severus would welcome any opportunity to pay Court to two such lovely ladies," said Malfoy with a smooth politician's smile that only faltered a little when they were treated to another round of shrill giggling.

"Are you staying, then?" asked Flourish bluntly, getting her a little glance of surprise from Harry, who couldn't tell if it was that she was smarter than she let on and tired of the games, or too dumb to play them properly.

Either way, Harry's answer was the same. "Of course," he said, plastering on his own smile. "I welcome the chance to renew my acquaintance with Severus, no matter who he ends up choosing, er, in the end."

"And I of course welcome any contact with Severus. He was my mentor in my youth, and it pleases me that he can now see me as a man," said Malfoy, sneaking a little flirty innuendo at the end of the sentence.

"Oh, splendid!" said Malkin. She looked as though she might have wanted to say something else, but at that moment Frannie pried herself out of the booth and all conversation froze, waiting to see who Snape signalled next.

"That's you," whispered Malfoy, and Harry jumped.

"Right, sorry, off I go," said Harry, wending his way through the crowd and sliding in next to Snape. "Er, how close should I be?" he asked quietly, feeling very nervous with all those eyes on him.

"If you wish to appear to be seriously considering marrying me," said Snape, his tone holding a note of disbelief, "then you ought to come a bit closer."

"Right," said Harry, sliding over until they were almost touching. "Close enough?"

"You aren't actually considering my suit, are you?" asked Snape, surprised.

Harry chuckled. "Somehow I think you'd kill me in a week, so I suppose not, but I'm happy if they all think so. Malfoy said it improved your credibility or something."

"Ah," said Snape, reaching into his robes and producing a small velvet pouch. "Well, regardless of the seriousness of your participation, it is appreciated for the cachet it lends my otherwise uninspiring Courtship." Snape slid the gift across the table, fingers brushing Harry's when he reached down to pick it up.

"What is it?" he asked, feeling the object inside; smooth and hard, and likely a phial, as Malfoy predicted.

"Insight Infusion," said Snape, and Harry tucked the precious concoction away in a pocket. "For your work."

"That'll come in very handy, thank you, Severus," said Harry, trying very hard to banish the unfortunate image of Snape as the dark, romantic hero. "You've shown remarkable thoughtfulness tonight, except perhaps the pudding."

"My apologies," said Snape, looking slightly abashed, though Harry wondered if it was an act. "I did not sufficiently consider how the gesture might seem, coming from me."

Harry nodded; he'd made enough thoughtless blunders tonight alone to allow Snape some leeway; perhaps it made them even for his inadvertent toast. "So, er, what are you planning, once you're married? Malfoy said something about heirs, but you've got an awful lot of wizards here for that."

"Still thinking like a Muggle," said Snape dryly. "I wish to have a legitimate heir so that my mother's line does not die out entirely, and of course would willingly provide one to my spouse, should he or she also wish to carry on the family name."

Harry swallowed. "So you'd... have babies, then?"

Snape smirked. "Or you. You're young and fit, you'd do well carrying a lively boy or two. The process requires a combination of potions and ritual sex magic, but I'm perfectly capable of both. I am only in want of a wife, as they say."

"Or husband," said Harry, feeling a bit shell shocked.

"Or a husband," agreed Snape. "You'd best put on your game face, or they'll wonder what I've said to shock you."

"Sorry," said Harry, looking down at his hands and trying to put the idea as far out of his mind as possible. It wasn't like he was really going to marry Snape anyway, so he didn't need to worry about sex magic or babies.

He was mortified when his brain chose to dwell on the sex as a second option. "So, ah, you're experienced with sex magic, then?" his mouth asked, before his brain got a say in the matter.

"I have participated in a few rites in my time," said Snape, his voice taking on a sensual tone Harry would definitely have remembered, had he even once used it in the classroom. "Most of my experience has been, shall we say, extracurricular."

Harry could feel his face heating, not to mention other things. "Do you, er, prefer blokes or birds, anyway? I saw you pulled almost the same number of each."

"I have not, as you say, pulled them yet," said Snape, toying with his tumbler of what looked like firewhisky. "My preference is slightly for men, though in truth I did not consider gender when handing out invitations, merely whether the person was in sufficient standing with the Ministry, and likely to accept."

"Well, I'm glad you asked me," said Harry, surprised to find it was true. "At any rate, I seem to have spent the evening amusing Malfoy for you."

"I did seat you together for a reason, though I admit surprise that you are getting along so... amiably."

Harry snickered. "Yeah, me, too. He's grown up well enough, I guess," he said with a shrug. "He doesn't try to hex me anymore, at any rate."

"A vast improvement over your usual social life, I expect," said Snape dryly.

"Now, now," said Harry, though he was smiling. Somehow it came out more like teasing now than it had when Harry was a student; perhaps it was just the idea that Snape thought of him, too, as a man rather than the boy he'd been. "Aren't you supposed to be wooing me with your charms?"

Snape's answering smirk was but a faint echo of the cruel smiles he'd directed at Harry in class. "Are you going to have me believe you'd be susceptible to them? Shall I hint that I'm particularly gifted in bed, or gifted by nature? Or perhaps I ought to lie to you, that we would have domestic bliss and I would never disagree or argue."

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed. "No, you're right, that would never have worked. Still, it's nice having you talk to me like I've got a brain in my head."

"It helps that I am not trying to stuff knowledge into it, merely innuendo," said Snape, smirk turning into a real smile that was almost flirty. Well, for Snape, anyway.

"And here I thought you were trying to stuff your innuendo somewhere else," said Harry, assailed by an image of Snape the very gifted, and Harry bent over the nearest available flat surface waiting to receive his gifts.

Snape actually laughed, which helped to flush away Harry's embarrassment. "Indeed, Harry, that would be my preference. Which do you prefer?"

That brought the blush right on back. "Er, well... whichever, really," he stammered, getting that same calculating look from Snape as he had from Malfoy earlier.

"Well, once you figure it out, do let me know," said Snape, running one warm finger over the back of Harry's hand. "Or if you'd like a bit of help with that, I'd be happy to demonstrate the pros and cons of both positions."

The mere thought of bending Snape over anything was nearly enough to make Harry's brain explode, or possibly other anatomy. "Er, that's all right, I'm really content to live in ignorance," he said, just managing not to jump when Snape's hand found his thigh. "Please tell me you never thought about this when I was a student."

Snape raised one eyebrow and gave Harry's leg a squeeze, then brought the errant hand back above the table's horizon. "I would never consider such a thing with a student, Harry, but you are no longer eleven, and I am no longer anyone's professor."

Harry swallowed, wondering how he'd allowed the conversation to get him in this very thorny place. "Yes, sir, I mean, Severus, I know that, I just..."

Snape smiled and shook his head. "You leave yourself far too open, Harry." He took a sip of his firewhisky, then asked idly, "Did you enjoy the rest of dinner, at least?"

Relieved, Harry nodded, taking a sip of his own warming butterbeer. "Yes, it was delicious. Very nostalgic, though I'm dying to know where you got so much information about my travels."

Snape chuckled. "Old issues of Witch Weekly, actually. They run a 'Where's Potter?' column, in the back with the horoscopes."

Harry shook his head slowly, grinning. "I'm still not used to it, you know. You always accused me of wanting the publicity, and I always hated it."

Snape's smile softened. "I was... made aware of my misconceptions about you after your victory. I had a very long talk with Albus' portrait, and he forced me to see that I had been hiding behind my own prejudices for far too long."

"Is that why you asked me here tonight?" Harry asked, finally voicing the question that had dogged him since he got the invitation.

"One of the reasons, yes," said Snape, the smile still hovering around the edges of his expression. "I am grateful that you accepted, and even more so that you're staying another round. I don't think I'd have had even five without your toast, let alone seven."

"As I didn't do it on purpose, I can't accept too much credit, but I'm glad it's helped you out. I never thought it was fair that they kept trying to treat you like a criminal, even after everything."

Snape shrugged, a world of meaning in the simple gesture. "One learns to live with inequity, or one becomes..."

"A cranky, misanthropic potions master?" Harry finished for him, not wanting to end the evening on so serious a note.

"Indeed," said Snape. He finished off his drink, then moved just a touch closer to Harry. "If I may ask a final favour of you?"

"Er, does it involve your... innuendo?" squeaked Harry as Snape's hand slid down his back, surprisingly warm and solid.

"No, simply a kiss. It is a sign of great favour to bestow a chaste kiss upon the suitor upon conclusion of the initial interview." His face was close, breath smelling of whisky and spices, and Harry couldn't think of any reason good enough to refuse.

"All right," whispered Harry, letting his eyes flutter closed just before their lips met.

Snape's lips were thin, and dry, but mobile and warm, and for a brief, insane moment Harry thought he might not mind being knocked up so much, if it meant a lot more of Snape's kisses. Fortunately the madness passed when Snape pulled away, and he blinked his eyes open, hoping he didn't look quite as dazed as he felt.

"Thank you, Harry," said Snape, looking insufferably smug.

Harry cleared his throat. "You're, um, quite welcome. So, we're done now?"

"Yes, we're done," said Snape, giving Harry's back one last pat before drawing away.

"Good. I mean, ah. Yes. Thanks." Harry slid out of the booth and made his way over to Malfoy.

"You look pleased," said Malfoy, handing Harry a third drink, as he'd abandoned the remains of his second with Snape.

"Pleased, or dazed?" asked Harry, taking a sip only to find it was simple iced water.

"Well, a little of both, not that that's a bad thing for Snape's reputation. After all, everyone but us thinks you've been shagging your way across continents, so anyone who can get a rise out of you with a little kiss..." Fortunately, Malfoy left the thought unspoken.

The water and sarcasm were both helping to clear Harry's head, and he looked over to find Lenis sliding in very close to Snape indeed. "It seems to have impressed him, anyway."

Malfoy chuckled. "I must admit my curiosity is piqued, not that I wasn't going to kiss him anyway. How'd you know?"

Harry blushed, then leaned in close to whisper, "He asked me, or I never would have."

"Thought so," said Malfoy. He took a sip of his drink, then asked just as quietly, "Was it really that good?"

Harry blushed, fidgeting with his glass. "Yeah, it really was."

Malfoy looked like he was going to ask another question when a cadaverous woman came up, giving them a disconcertingly frank once-over. "Hepsibeth Hungerford," she said, nodding briskly. "You two, of course, require no introduction."

"A pleasure," said Harry, smiling as sincerely as he could through the lingering confusion.

"Good to meet you," said Malfoy, returning the nod.

She smiled tightly, then turned to Harry. "What's he got on you, then?" she asked, one eyebrow going up as if to dare him to contradict her.

"Unfinished business and a really sexy voice," said Harry cryptically, taking an instant dislike to her. "Actually, I find your implication that he'd have to have some sort of hold over me to make me consider his suit to be insulting to everyone involved." Hermione would have been proud, considering the big words; he wouldn't tell Malfoy that it was paraphrased from a movie he'd seen last year.

"Not everyone is blinded by public opinion when it comes to Severus," said Malfoy, looking rather impressed at Harry's defence.

"I suppose you expect me to believe that you're only in it for, what, the sake of camaraderie?" she asked.

"No," said Malfoy, glancing over at Snape. "You're supposed to believe that we know something about him that you don't, that makes him worth considering."

She seemed distinctly unimpressed with this answer, and Harry couldn't help but snicker. "You could always try getting a kiss yourself, just to see if he lives up to his press," said Harry, drinking his water as though he'd had no doubts before or since about the quality of Snape's kisses.

"I don't think so," said Hepsibeth coldly. "I won't be involving myself in this farce of a Courtship any further." She spun and stalked off, expensive robes glittering in the candlelight.

"Well, I don't have to ask why she's not married yet," said Harry grimly, watching her go, "but I don't really get why the rest of them aren't. I mean, aren't you guys all about breeding more little wizards?"

Malfoy laughed. "You know, even if you weren't cute, I think I'd keep you around to remind me that not everyone grew up steeped in wizarding culture and politics the way I did," he said, eyes shining at Harry.

"Uh, does this mean we're friends, or are you trying to get in my robes?" asked Harry, edging away from Malfoy nervously. He could just about get his head around the idea that Snape was desperate enough to be allowed the family he wanted that he'd even be willing to trust Harry to help him achieve it, but he had a harder time understanding an amiable Malfoy. He'd been functioning under the assumption that Malfoy had been asked to keep an eye on him to prevent him from embarrassing them all.

"It means I'm trying to see past who we used to be," said Malfoy with a mysterious smile.

"That's helpful," said Harry grumpily. "And avoiding the question."

"It varies, but usually it's some scandal, or knowing the wrong people to make a good match," said Malfoy with a shrug. "If my parents were still around, I'd be married by now myself, but I've a little more freedom to spend my youth rebuilding the world in the name of commerce before I'm expected to settle down and produce an heir."

Harry bit his lip, then asked, "Are you really okay with the idea of, you know, having the child yourself?"

Malfoy chuckled. "Well, I'll admit it's not the most comfortable idea, but it's either that or marry a woman I'll never want or love, and look how well that did for my father."

"I guess that makes sense," said Harry with a sigh. "I wonder if I'll ever have a chance at a life like that."

"A life of misery and boring cocktail parties?" asked Malfoy pointedly.

Harry gave him a shove. "No, you dolt, a life with someone who loves me. I mean, being courted is nice and all, but I don't see Severus declaring his undying devotion to me any time soon."

Malfoy snorted. "No, I suppose not. Still, it's not like you're really..." he cut off abruptly as yet another pair of the candidates approached, a stuffy looking older gentlemen with a rakish thirtysomething man trailing behind him.

"Messrs. Malfoy and Potter, I am Secundus Trimble, of the Hogsmeade Trimbles," said the stuffy man, looking as though he might puff himself out of his dress robes if he wasn't careful. The other man passed them right on by and demanded a pint of bitter from the bartender, ignoring them all.

"There's that many Trimbles in wizarding Britain?" Harry blurted, barely managing to hold in an 'oof' when Malfoy elbowed him. He coughed instead. "Erm, I mean, good to meet you."

"There are several branches of our family doing business in various wizarding enclaves, including the Trimble and Trumble cloth manufacturers, and of course our business in Hogsmeade making and selling a wide array of shoes," said Trimble, apparently choosing to believe that Harry Potter could do no wrong and obviously hadn't meant to be insulting.

"Oh," said Harry, then before Malfoy could 'prompt' him again, he added, "Well, I hope you're doing well for yourselves."

"It's good to see so many old families represented in the Courtship," said Malfoy smoothly.

Trimble looked terribly excited to be considered from an old family by Malfoy. "Do you think so? Mums wasn't so sure I should consider accepting, but a good potions maker could be a real asset to our business, since we have to send out of the family for our potions currently. Oh, but you don't want to hear about that."

Harry managed to censor himself before he agreed that no, he really didn't, and instead plastered a smile on his face. "Well, I'm sure Severus would be a good addition to your household. He would love to ally himself with such a respected family," said Harry, though of course the man's very presence here bespoke some sort of ill repute about him.

Trimble fairly glowed, taking his leave and wandering off with a proud grin on his round face.

"If he gets any more full of himself, he'll explode," said the man to Harry's left, taking a long pull on his pint. "Gaerwn Guinness. Not those Guinnesses, though."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "D'you mean the world record people, or the beer people?"

Guinness raised an eyebrow. "Don't know anything about those. I meant the Knockturn shop, bastard's been giving our family a bad name for years now."

Harry snorted. "Sorry, I guess those are both Muggle. Anyway, what brings you to Severus' Courtship?"

"Got an invite," Guinness replied tersely, shrugging.

Malfoy smiled. "And now, are you going to consider his suit?"

Guinness shrugged again. "Like as not, though I'm not much for bottoming. Still, if his nose is any indication, a man'd be mad not to spread for him once in awhile."

Harry nearly snorted his water. "Erm, yes, I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

Malfoy and Guinness shared a moment of amusement at Harry's discomfiture, but their bonding was interrupted when Eugenia, looking slightly less elderly under the gentle light of the bar, escorted another middle-aged woman up to the two of them. "Don't be silly, Winifred," she was saying as they came into earshot, "they're perfectly nice young gentlemen."

"We definitely are that," said Malfoy smoothly; apparently he no longer trusted the introductions to Harry. "And who are you darling ladies?"

"I've already met Ms. Eggerston, isn't that right, Eugenia?" said Harry, just to annoy Malfoy.

"Yes, during dinner, though I was a bit too far around the table to properly meet Mr. Malfoy. This is my dear friend Winifred Grey, whom Severus was kind enough include as well," said Eugenia, bringing the quiet woman forward.

"How do you do," she said politely, standing awkwardly as if she had less idea than Harry of what to do in these situations.

"I'd say we're quite a bit better now you ladies have come to brighten our dark corner," said Malfoy, and Harry tried really hard not to roll his eyes. Guinness had a sudden coughing fit into his beer.

Winifred giggled. It was, Harry thought, only slightly less appealing on a woman of her age and stature than it had been on Flourish and Malkin. "Flatterer," she said, practically batting her eyelashes at Malfoy.

Fortunately for them all, Lenis chose that moment to bestow his kiss on Severus, and everyone's attention was drawn over to their corner and away from any need to manufacture a response. "Oh, my," said Eugenia, watching the kiss linger. "It looks like you've a bit of competition, Harry."

Harry grinned as Lenis emerged from the booth looking just as dazed as Harry had been earlier. "That's all right," he said amiably, taking a sip of his water. He thought about adding something modest, but really in this situation it was probably all right to be a bit cocky.

"He's always enjoyed a healthy competitive spirit," said Malfoy dryly, getting a snicker from Guinness.

"Oh, dear, it's my turn!" said Winifred, suddenly flustered. "What should I do, Genie?"

"You'll be fine, dear. Just go with your instincts, though if you do decide to go another round, make sure to get a kiss. I had no idea he had such strong lips..." said Eugenia, moving out of earshot with Winifred.

"Strong lips, that's a good way to put it," said Harry, getting a snicker from Malfoy.

"Huh. And now you've got me wondering if there'll even be a spot for me in the next go 'round," said Guinness. He shrugged. "It's never a bad thing for a man to have choices."

"What d'you mean?" asked Harry, unafraid to show his ignorance around Guinness, who reminded him a bit of Seamus, in a Welsh sort of way.

"If Severus has more than seven people accept, then he gets to choose which seven to keep. It shows he's a desirable match," explained Malfoy.

"Yep," said Guinness. "Well, at least I didn't have to miss a game for it."

Suddenly the light went on in Harry's mind. "You're that Guinness, the replacement Keeper for the Kenmare Kestrels," said Harry with a grin.

"Aye, and I can tell you me mam was livid when she found out. It's hell sometimes, being from a mixed family," said Guinness, sipping his pint.

"You're a halfblood?" asked Malfoy, surprised.

"Naah, not that. Mam's from Wales, and Da's Irish," said Guinness, grinning at them now. "Had you for a minute there, though."

Harry shrugged. "Doesn't bother me, my mum was Muggleborn herself," he said, though of course it was common knowledge like so much of his life these days.

"Yes, but you're Harry Potter. That's enough cachet to overcome a lot in the eyes of the Wizengamot," said Malfoy.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose," he said, eye drawn to where Winifred was heaving herself up out of the booth that hadn't seemed quite so small when Harry was sitting in it. "Did she kiss him?" Harry asked, hoping Malfoy had noticed.

"Nope. I think she was more of a filler invite anyway," said Malfoy with a shrug. "I expect she decided they've nothing in common."

"It's a little strange, thinking of Severus trying to build a life and a family with some of these people," said Harry, an odd sort of protectiveness coming over him. The more he knew of Snape beyond the appalling way he'd treated his students, the more Harry wanted to be sure that Snape had a chance at a good life, after everything he'd given up to make up for his youthful transgressions.

"I'd have to take a year off, I guess," said Guinness thoughtfully. "Unless Snape wanted to have the first one. I hear it's hard for men to do twins, so it's better one at a time."

Harry shuddered. "All right, that's enough about... that," he said, somehow more bothered by the matter-of-fact way Guinness talked about it than his earlier conversations with Snape and Malfoy. "Let's talk about the Kestrels instead."

Guinness laughed. "Or the competition. I hear you got scouted again," he said slyly.

Harry shook his head. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for the life of a professional Quidditch player," said Harry truthfully. He'd considered it once, and after spending a weekend with the team, he'd been so badly hung over that he had to refuse their generous offer by owl; his head had hurt too much to use the Floo.

"Ah, not all the teams are like the Bats. They're real party animals, out near every night," said Guinness. "But don't mind me, I'm not trying to recruit you or anything, just talking out my arse."

Harry laughed, and Malfoy moved closer, and the three of them spent the next while talking Quidditch and speculating on the rest of the candidates as Cubbins, Trimble, and both Flourish and Malkin spent their time in Snape's care. None of them took a kiss, but Snape certainly grew more and more satisfied as the interviews passed. Finally he signalled to Malfoy, who took his leave from Harry and Guinness, who had insisted they call him Gaerwn after another pint.

"You've known them both awhile, yeah?" asked Gaerwn, one of those sly little smiles on his face that Harry was beginning to learn meant that he'd seen more than he let on.

"Malfoy was in my year at Hogwarts, and Snape taught us both. We couldn't stand each other back then, of course," said Harry, nursing his third butterbeer.

Gaerwn raised an eyebrow, and said, "Seems like he fancies the pants off you now."

Harry snickered. "Well, you know, it's hard not to be curious. Plus, he promised Severus that he'd be nice to me tonight, I think. He hasn't said, but they certainly seemed to have had it all planned out from the start."

"He's a bit of a mystery. Snape, I mean. It's a surprise, isn't it, that he'd go through this whole deal just to have a family," said Gaerwn.

Harry shrugged; he'd wondered the same thing himself, but knew Snape well enough his own speculations were likely a bit more on the mark. "I suppose it's important to him, redeeming his mother's name after everything."

"Huh," came the reply, and they both fell silent, watching Snape laugh about something with Malfoy, their hands touching.

The whole tableau was intimate, their bodies turned toward one another rather than sitting back in the seat, heads close as if they talked in low tones, though the booth was spelled to keep them from being overheard. Harry felt a little pang of envy as Malfoy leaned up and kissed Snape warmly, an affection in both of their faces that Harry didn't know that he'd ever experienced. The worst part was, Harry didn't know who he was really jealous of, something that would have appalled the boy he'd been.

Harry swallowed the last of his drink and turned to find Guinness watching him speculatively. "Make a nice couple, don't they?" he said, and Harry suppressed the urge to make a rude gesture.

"I suppose," said Harry, knowing he sounded petulant and unable to help it; he'd never been able to hide a thing, not even at the end, not that it had mattered by that point.

Harry tried to swallow his jealousy as Malfoy strolled up to them looking insufferably smug. "You're it, Gaerwn," he said, reclaiming his spot beside Harry.

"Yep. You'll owl me about that drink, now?" asked Gaerwn, and Harry couldn't help but return his easy grin.

"Yeah, of course," said Harry, giving him a little nudge. "Go on, see what all the fuss is about."

Gaerwn laughed, eyes twinkling with mischief as he sauntered over to the booth.

"He's the last of us, I think," said Malfoy, not bothering to get his drink refilled. "Then Snape does a little speech, gives a proper toast, and we all go our separate ways."

Harry nodded, shuffling his feet a little and wishing he had proper pockets to stuff his hands into. "So, um, if I were to owl you to try and have tea or something, so you can tell me about the rest of this Courtship business...?"

Draco laughed. "I'll be terribly put out if you don't owl me, and I'll probably owl you first regardless. Severus should send his letters out in a few days, thanking those who aren't sticking around and inviting the lucky seven to the next round of manoeuvring."

"Will it always be these dinners?" asked Harry, not at all pleased by the prospect.

Malfoy shook his head. "No, that's just this first time. The rest of the courtship will be more individual, things that show Snape's personality as much as how well he can cater to our tastes. There's also more gifts, which will have to be a lot more creative than potions for everyone. I don't envy him."

Harry shook his head, looking around at the people in the room. "Me neither," he said, trying to imagine being shackled to Trimble's family business, or tormented by giggling for the rest of his days. "Why don't we have tea once the invites show? Assuming he doesn't get plenty of takers and cut me out altogether."

Malfoy chuckled. "He can't, actually. Any of the ones that kissed him are pretty much guaranteed a go; that's one reason why the kiss is part of the ritual. The only way he can push one of them out of the running is if he had more than seven kisses, which he hasn't."

"Nope, even with Gaerwn that's just four, all men. And Gaerwn's a solid enough bloke."

A waiter appeared from somewhere to Banish everyone's drinks, trading them for delicate champagne flutes, bubbles spiralling up through the golden drink in a way that reminded Harry of twining snakes. Gaerwn gave Snape a rather hearty-looking kiss and slid out of the booth, accepting the second-to-last glass off the tray. Snape stood on the other side of the table and took the final glass, then the waiter whisked himself away.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Snape, his voice clear and confident even after what must have been a nerve-wracking thirteen interviews. "I wish to thank you for taking the time to consider my suit, and to further thank those who are allowing me to continue Courting them. Someday I hope to raise a family with one of those gathered here, and that is a thing I could not even dream of until the Order of the Phoenix finished the work that I had begun so long ago. It has taken me since then to remake the man I was into the man you see today, one whom I hope will make a good father and husband, one worthy of reclaiming the name Prince."

Harry found himself unexpectedly moved by Snape's words; he'd been so busy thinking of Voldemort's demise as the culmination of his own horrible youth that he'd never really considered how much of Snape's life had been occupied by the very same goal, longer than Harry had even been alive at the time.

Snape continued after a short pause, raising his glass. "To this end, I would like to toast our futures. Whether or not they are entwined, may they all be bright and fruitful."

"To the future!" came the chorus, and they all raised their glasses and drank. Snape drank along with the rest this time, emptying the small flute in one long swallow; Harry saw Malfoy doing the same, so he made an effort to gulp down the whole thing. When he looked around, only a few of the glasses still contained wine, which Harry hoped was a good sign.

"Very smart, obliquely bringing up his sacrifices as a spy," said Malfoy, leaning in to murmur to Harry, "and disguising it as a compliment to you lot."

"Wouldn't that be 'us lot'?" asked Harry pointedly, squinting a bit as the wall reopened and light flooded into the bar. People began milling out in ones and twos, glasses abandoned, while Snape looked on.

Malfoy smirked. "I suppose it would at that. At any rate, if you want a chat with him, wait until everyone else has gone."

Harry shot him a speculative glance. "How'd you know?" he asked.

"Slytherin intuition. Besides, I want to have a chat myself," said Malfoy.

Gaerwn made his way over to them, past the last few stragglers lingering over their conversation. "Well, I'll be seeing you blokes in the next round. It was good to meet you."

"You as well," said Harry, giving his hand a shake. "Don't be a stranger."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be owling you," said Gaerwn with a wink. "And you're welcome to join us as well, if you'd like," he added, turning to Malfoy.

"Perhaps I shall," said Malfoy, shaking his hand in turn. "I've got to size up the competition, after all."

They all laughed, and by the time Gaerwn made his way out, only they and Snape were left, Snape already coming over to their little niche.

"Lagging as usual, I see," Snape said to Harry, his voice dry but lacking in the cold contempt it had once held whenever dealing with Harry as a student.

"You know me, always out after curfew," replied Harry teasingly. "Anyway, did you get enough acceptances? I know we're obligated to go the next round now, but Draco's promised to help keep me from making an arse of myself."

"Quite," said Snape, giving Malfoy a look whose significance completely passed Harry by. "Thanks to your... performances, I have nine candidates and may actually choose whom to court from the group, rather than having to beg favours to achieve seven."

"Excellent! Though too bad about having to keep Lenis on," said Harry, shuddering.

Snape laughed. "He wasn't so bad as all that," he said, though he was smiling as he did, warm and full of humour, "but he is definitely not my first choice."

"Oh?" asked Harry, giving Snape a coy look. "And who might that be?"

Malfoy elbowed Harry in the ribs, but Snape only chuckled. "That," he said, "would be telling."

"So, is there anything I'm supposed to do between now and your owl?" asked Harry, cutting to the heart of the matter. "I wouldn't want to bollix things up because I don't know the rules."

"Maturity at last," said Snape dryly. "A thank you note will be in order after my owl, reiterating your intention to continue in writing. Draco, can I entrust you with the task of showing him what to say?"

Draco smiled. "Yes, and I promise not to let him send it on Malfoy stationery, either."

Harry swallowed; he could see their easy camaraderie, the way Snape relaxed just a little when he was speaking with Malfoy, and the way Malfoy lit up under the warm weight of Snape's regard. There was that jealousy again, spiced with that feeling of being left out that had peppered his childhood. "I'll, ah, let you two talk, then," said Harry, feeling more awkward than ever.

"Expect my owl in three days," said Snape, which Harry supposed was his way of saying goodbye.

"Er, right, and yours too?" Harry asked Malfoy, edging away from them both and toward the light.

"Mine, too," said Malfoy, attention barely on Harry at all as he and Snape exchanged another of those significant looks.

"Er, right, then. Bye!" said Harry. He fled, more confused than ever about what was going on, and his role in it.

* * *

Draco watched Potter scampering away as if he'd been burned, then turned back to Snape with a glint in his eye. "Well, that was interesting," he said, his voice droll.

"Unexpected, certainly," said Snape, giving one last glance at the doorway. He looked tired now, the evening's stress finally showing on his face, and Draco surprised himself with how much he wanted to offer to take that stress away. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, then continued, "I must admit I invited him as a last-ditch effort to make thirteen; I never expected him to be so accommodating, nor so..."

"Kissable?" supplied Draco, leaning back against the bar nonchalantly.

"Mature," Snape shot back, glaring ineffectually. He sighed and relented, "Or kissable. Somehow he's taken all the things that made him a terror to teach, and turned them into assets in his adult life."

"Just like me," said Draco with a smirk, looking over at Snape curiously. "I don't suppose you'd tell me who's really in the running?"

Snape snorted, moving to lean wearily next to Draco. "Hardly. For one thing, there's the little problem of having to convince them that I'm someone to share a life with." There was something sad in his tone, that said he didn't hardly believe it himself, and Draco's chest ached a little.

"Nonsense," said Draco, turning to lay a hand on Snape's arm. "You're a prize, Severus, and, well... I could think of a worse match to make for myself."

Snape looked as though he might say something kind in response, but his old defences sprang up and his eyes shuttered just a little as he replied, "Your father must be spinning in his grave."

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's a different world now, and if I want to marry my beloved teacher and raise smart, sarcastic, ambitious little snakes with him, then I can find a way to make that work for me."

"You'll stay until... until the end, then? Just in case," said Snape, and Draco wondered what it must have cost him to admit his own uncertainty, even obliquely.

"Of course I will, Severus," said Draco softly, moving closer until he could feel the heat from Snape's body. "I won't say I wasn't hoping for a few more years before I got married, because we both know that's not true, but if it comes to it I'll even be there at the very end."

Snape looked shocked when Draco brushed a soft kiss over his cheek. "I hope," said Snape softly, brushing his fingers over Draco's cheek, "that you never have cause to regret that."

Draco smiled and shook his head; Snape wasn't a looker by anyone's estimates, but he had something about him that invited one's mind to wander into dark and interesting places. A marriage to him might not be ideal, but it wouldn't by any means be boring. "I hope one of us gets into Potter's trousers before that Quidditch player does," said Draco, deliberately lightening the mood.

Snape laughed, though it was becoming obvious the evening had taken all he had to give and more. "You and I both, though if you tell him I said so, I'll deny it."

Draco snickered. "Go home, Severus. Have a nice wank in the bath thinking of one of us, and get some sleep. You've got people to choose tomorrow."

"You'll come for tea?" asked Snape.

Draco nodded. "As requested, I'll give you my impressions of everyone that's left. Personally, I'd pick Guinness if it looks like Potter won't come across, but I always did like a man with a big broomstick."

Snape shook his head, smiling wanly. "Go on, I've got to settle the bill. I'll have the Floo open, come by at four."

"Tomorrow, then," said Draco, taking pity on Snape's nerves and squeezing his shoulder rather than trying to steal another kiss. He left still thinking about Harry more than anything, and how pleasant it had been to move from pigtail pulling to a more adult form of discourse.


	2. Correspondences

When Draco arrived, Snape had already laid out a sensible tea of sandwiches, fruit, and warm scones with clotted cream and jam. "Yours?" asked Draco by way of greeting, dipping a finger in the red stuff and finding it strawberry rhubarb, a favourite of his.

"And here I thought it was Potter who had no manners," said Snape, though his tone was teasing. They were beyond such niceties in private, after the time they'd spent together on the run; Draco would never admit to Snape how much he both regretted and was grateful that Snape had refused to acknowledge any of Draco's attempts to seduce, back then.

Draco flopped into the chair and pulled out a folded bit of parchment, putting out of his mind the idea of seducing Snape, or being seduced by, now that he was a man grown. "Now, now," he said, waving his wand so a perfect cup of tea began to make itself. "Play nice, or I won't give you my notes."

Snape snorted. "Yes, dear," he said, his voice almost a challenge under the teasing. Snape had no idea how much it meant to Draco, to be given this chance to relate as adults rather than student to teacher, and Draco wasn't about to tell him. "Why don't you tell me who you think accepted, and we'll go from there?"

"Give me a scone, and I will," said Draco, unfolding his paper. He'd have some of the sandwiches in a bit, but right now the lure of fresh scones with Snape's jam was too much to resist. He unfolded the paper while Snape sliced open one of the scones, slathering the inside with jam and cream and setting it on a small plate. "You said nine, right? And I know four right off, because of the kisses, plus Eugenia practically told us she'd accepted, and Frannie as well."

"Go on," said Snape, nonchalantly licking a bit of stray cream off one of his long fingers. Draco's mouth went dry for a moment, and he tried very hard not to stare in amazed lust at the sight of Severus Snape flirting.

He cleared his throat and continued. "Yes, well. I'm equally sure that horrid Hepsibeth refused, and I got the impression that Eugenia's friend was out as well." He looked down the list for her name. "Winifred Grey."

"Correct so far," said Snape, obviously amused by something, whether it was Draco's recitation or his reaction to the sight of Snape's tongue curling around a fingertip.

"The gigglers, Malkin and Flourish, either both did or both didn't. Trimble seemed pretty convinced that you'd be an asset to his business, so I'm going to guess he did accept. Hm," said Draco, looking at the remaining names. "Cubbins seemed unconvinced, so my final guess is neither he nor Manchester accepted, but you got both the gigglers."

"Correct on all counts. I see you haven't lost your aptitude," said Snape, just the smallest hint of real approval sneaking into his tone.

Draco smiled. "Thank you. You haven't lost your charm, either," he replied, sweet as the jam and smooth as the cream, both quite fake as he referred to a long-running joke between them. He rewarded himself with a big bite of both, humming softly as the flavours melted together in his mouth as he chewed and swallowed. "I'm assuming you're going to keep Harry as long as he'll stay?" he asked.

"Would you believe me if I said, until the end if he'll have me?" said Snape, with one of those flashes of painful honesty that had always caught Draco off-guard.

Draco nodded, a little surprised but not as much as he thought he should be. "Is this new, or..."

"Relatively new. I couldn't stand him until he grew a proper spine, and even then he was far too young. This new Harry is... intriguing. He's grown into a man worth having, if he'd only stop wandering about the globe," said Snape, busying himself by making a cup of tea for himself by hand, a splash of milk in the bottom of the cup and strong tea to the brim after, followed by a single candied rose petal. Draco had learned the hard way not to ask about the rose petals.

"Well, you could always arrange for him to see your cock. It did wonders for me," said Draco, referring to the times they'd been forced into close enough quarters that modesty became out of the question.

"Somehow," said Snape, taking a sip of his tea, "I don't think it would work quite as well on him as it did on you. Not even he knows if he bottoms."

Draco laughed. "True, true. But I'll tell you one thing, your Welshman would dearly love to find out. I'm not sure he'd have stayed if he hadn't seen you curl Harry's toes with that kiss."

"I expect not, but as you said, now that I've got him he seems a good candidate. Respectable job, strong body, amiable disposition, and not entirely put off by my appearance and reputation," said Snape, toying with a sandwich.

Draco finished off his scone while he ruminated on what to say to that, washing it down with the last of his tea. "There's more to you than notoriety and a big nose," said Draco with a shrug. "I never knew how you did it, but I've always found you very compelling. Some of it's the voice, I suspect."

"The voice?" said Snape, raising an eyebrow. He intercepted the sugar and began to make Draco's fresh cup himself, as much to have something to do with his hands as anything else, Draco suspected.

"You know," said Draco with a shrug. "Anyway, the nose just makes people look at your feet, and then wonder about your other attributes," he teased, glancing significantly at Snape's lap.

"Not everybody has the sensibilities of a giggling Firstie," said Snape, rolling his eyes and handing Draco his cup.

"Mmm, perfect," said Draco after a sip. "You were always good at that, giving people what they want. Dinner was a masterpiece."

Snape inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you. It was refreshing to research people for personal gain rather than a more sinister motive."

"Nice not to think about how best to kill or control them, if they won't behave?" said Draco, remembering the long night they'd spent carefully crystallizing a very special batch of pineapple. They'd both been relieved when, come morning, the need for it had finally been obviated, and the wizarding world had celebrated Harry Potter for the second time around while they destroyed the evidence.

Snape nodded, and Draco suppressed his own urge to comfort, instead toeing off his shoes and curling up in the chair, setting a plate of sandwiches floating off to one side with his cup and saucer. "Well, you're going to continue courting me, because I'm splendid, and Guinness, because he's splendid in a Welsh sort of way, and Potter, because he's splendid and a virgin, so he'll appreciate whatever he gets," said Draco, hoping to banish the memories with a return to the original topic.

"And Lenis, though I might not have if I had the choice," said Snape.

"Kiss that bad?" asked Draco.

Snape chuckled, a dry sound that didn't bode well for Lenis' future invitations. "No, he's quite skilled, but a bit too much like Lockhart for my tastes -- all flash and no substance."

"He's got a hidden agenda, kissing you like that. He was very nonchalant about the whole affair, until Potter kissed you, and suddenly he was all over you like suckers on the giant squid," said Draco, nibbling on a sandwich that proved to be watercress.

Snape coughed. "Yes, well, I think we both know that Potter pretty much guaranteed my success in his own fumbling manner," he said. Intriguing, that he might be more affected by Potter's kiss than he liked to admit.

"To round out the men, there's Trimble. I really do think he'd stick it out, if it came to that. His family has been hit by the recent increases in potion prices, and since they're in Hogsmeade they can't ask me for relief funds, though I'm thinking of extending a hand to that community next fiscal year," said Draco, looking at his notes. "He's a bit of a bore, but he's got a whole clan to help raise the kids, who would likely end up cobblers."

Snape made a noncommittal sound, as he was in the midst of consuming one of his own scones so full of clotted cream and jam that it threatened to ooze out over everything. Draco caught himself staring again, so he busied himself with his tea and sandwiches, delighted to find the little round ones had a curried chicken salad inside. "I'll likely keep him, as he's one of the few that's seriously thinking of me as a marriage prospect, even if there isn't much attraction there."

"Right, that's five, then. You've got to pick two of the four women," said Draco, looking over the list. "I don't envy you; it's gigglers or Eugenia, who looks old enough to be your mother."

"She is," said Snape with a sigh. "She only agreed to go through with this on the guarantee she wouldn't make it very far, so I ought to allow her this early out."

Draco nodded. "Best keep in her good graces," he said, knowing that even after the match was made Snape might need other favours to make his new family work.

"So that leaves me with," Snape pulled a face, "three gigglers. Frannie seems the best of the three, but if I split up the other two then I'm likely to lose the other anyway."

Draco shrugged. "You're only losing two the next round, why not Lenis and the last one? Frannie comes off as brainless but I think it's an act."

Snape nodded. "I agree. I had worried we might lose someone else, but if the others seem solid enough to you, I'll send my thanks to Eugenia, and my regrets to... hm."

"Flourish. She's the dumber of the two, and further along the family tree as well," said Malfoy, checking his notes to be sure. "Amelia Malkin is a niece, though not a favoured one."

"Still, there's potions that a robe shop of Malkin's calibre needs, baths for strengthening the fabric and the like," said Snape thoughtfully. "The book restoration expert at Flourish and Blotts is an accomplished potions master in his own right, so they wouldn't have any use for my services."

"So now it's just a matter of wording it so little Euthanasia Flourish doesn't take offence when you Court Malkin and not her," said Draco thoughtfully. The letters had to conform to a style, but within that loose format there was a lot of room for the suitor to help or hinder his Courtship. "Say something about her being too good for you, that you regret that you're only allowed seven and four were stolen by kisses, and all that rot. Girls love to hear they're the one that got away."

"I shall think on it; I trust I can count on you to be discreet?" said Snape, stretching in his seat and eyeing the desk. "You're welcome to stay, I've got enough supper for two later if you don't mind steak and kidney pie."

Draco understood the implicit dismissal and plea in one; Snape was letting him go if he wanted, while fishing for his help with the tedious task of writing thirteen formal missives. "I'd love to stay and read that book you still won't let me borrow," he said with a private little smile. "Have you got our next gifts picked out?"

Snape sighed. "I'm not expected to have them until the second meeting, but I have put some thought into them. I don't want to be too obvious, so nobody will be getting Quidditch gear, but I haven't had any brilliantly insightful ideas yet, either."

"Decided on the next event? Harry's dreading the idea of another dinner," said Draco, finishing off the last sandwich on his plate, cucumber this time, a smug grin decorating his features.

"Again, just ideas," said Snape. He stood and went over to the desk, and began clearing things away. "It's a good thing I had some money saved up, or this Courtship would put me in the poorhouse. That dinner alone!" He shook his head, tucking the bill away in a folio that had been hiding under the mess.

"What about a Quidditch match?" asked Draco. "Though that's as good as declaring you're all for the blokes, I suppose."

"Someone's guaranteed to be unhappy no matter what I choose," said Snape, "though I must admit I'll be looking to please some more than others." He sat down, desk now clean but for the folio, a list of names, a stack of the heavy cards required for all Courtship correspondence, plus envelopes, quill, ink and blotter.

Draco was amused to see that the refusal cards were on top -- they said "Thank you" on the outside in flowing silver script, where the ones asking to be allowed further Courtship would have Snape's monogram. "Harry and I will be two of the some, I hope," said Draco loftily, finding a great deal of irony in the idea of Snape making an effort to please Potter, and with Draco helping no less.

"Of course," said Snape, glowering at the card in front of him. He sighed. "Eugenia first, as she will be one of the easiest."

"I'll just raid your bookshelves. Did you want another cuppa? I promise not to forget the rose petal," Draco coaxed, hating to see the old frown back on Snape's face. It was there a lot, but still less than in the bad old days. Draco liked to think he had something to do with the decrease, despite their intermittent contact between then and now.

A smile quirked one side of Snape's mouth. "Perhaps as a reward once I've finished this first one," he said.

"And so it shall be done," said Draco, levering himself up on the chair and looking for the volume in question, a series of essays on the definition of Dark Arts and the ways in which you could use some of the powers and stay on the side of the Light. It was a rare book today, as many of the rituals inside could be accomplished with or without the consent of the parties involved, and most of the printing had been quietly confiscated by a paranoid Ministry.

They sat in silence for a quarter of an hour, Draco reading and Snape scratching away with his quill and occasionally swearing quietly. Eventually Snape sat back and stretched, beckoning to Draco. "See if this meets your approval?"

Draco set the book aside, moving the ribbon to mark his place. "You certainly did agonize over it enough," he said teasingly, coming over to stand behind Snape and read over his shoulder. "This is long, don't you have a book of the forms?"

"I do, but Eugenia's required a more personal touch," said Snape irritably as Draco read.

"So I see," said Draco, surprisingly moved by Snape's account of the first time he'd met her as a boy, back when his parents still had the means for his mother to invite others to tea once in awhile. There was an underlying pain there, resentment against the grinding poverty that had followed and a quiet grief for a mother long gone, things that shone through with a painful honesty. "I think she'll be well pleased," said Draco quietly, giving Snape's shoulders a squeeze. "Owl her in a few days and ask her to tea, though, or she might never forgive you for making her cry."

Snape looked up, startled, and just for a moment it seemed he might destroy the note and start over rather than admit to such a weakness. After a tense heartbeat, he nodded and signed the bottom with a little flourish. "I'll owl her once everyone's sent their formal consent and invite her to join me for a celebratory tea," he said, using his wand to dry the ink before stuffing the letter in an envelope. "And now I believe you owe me a cup?"

"Yes, Severus," said Draco with a little laugh, brushing a kiss over Snape's cheek before going to make the promised tea, revelling in the freedom to do both.

Draco found himself properly considering accepting Snape's suit himself for the first time, not out of some prurient curiosity, as a last resort to save Snape's Courtship, or even the affection that he'd held for Snape since he was quite young. He was beginning to see there would be more to the match than that. Snape had been an excellent spy, wizard and mentor, and had learned over the years just how much of himself to show to get the maximum benefit out of each perceived moment of weakness. Draco realized he could use someone like that on his side, not to mention the added benefit of finally getting a taste of Snape's other assets.

Draco knew he was a little flushed when he brought Snape's cup over, but Snape was preoccupied with his next refusal, a small book open and floating nearby. "I knew you had to have it hidden around here somewhere," said Draco, setting the tea out of harm's way and circling around to see the title. "I didn't even know they'd done a fortieth edition of _Letters for All Occasions_ ," he said, amused. The copy in the Malfoy library was nearly as old as the family itself, and more a curiosity than a useful reference book; Draco kept a 38th edition in his desk that he'd used just last week when accepting Snape's invitation.

"They've added in Harry Potter Day event parties," said Snape, his voice so dry that Draco couldn't tell if he was joking.

"Well, if you marry him then you'll be able to have your very own private ones from now on," he replied instead, coming back around to read over Snape's shoulder. "That's pretty good, but you should change 'obliged' to 'pleased' if you don't want it to be quite so obvious you'd rather bed a trout."

Snape laughed and made the requisite adjustment, using his charmed quill to brush away the offending word before replacing it with Draco's more acceptable substitute. "She wasn't quite such a harridan when I knew her last," said Snape, finishing it off and signing with a rather satisfied flourish.

"You need a nubile young man in your bed anyway," said Draco, posing against the desk.

Snape snorted. "Unless you're volunteering, in which case we'd still have to go through the whole Courtship nonsense as it's too late to back out, I don't believe you get to decide that."

Draco gave him a demure, secret smile. "Then you'll have to wait and see, won't you?" he replied airily, going back to drape himself attractively in Snape's line of sight and read his book. After all, if he stopped talking now, then he couldn't say something he'd regret later.

Snape made a sound of disbelief and went through the lengthy process of addressing, sealing and charming the letter, then laid it carefully atop the first, and took up another card. They spent the afternoon like that, Draco helping with a word here and a phrase there, until there were only two left to be done -- his own, and Potter's. "Shall we break for supper first?" said Draco, eyeing the last two names on Snape's neat list meaningfully.

Snape chuckled and stood. "Quite the far cry from the boy who used to demand everything his way, _right now_ , on pain of telling his father," he said.

Draco winced. "We should never speak of that again," he said, trying not to think about what a spoiled brat he'd been, so full of his own importance and his father's ideas. It had taken a lot to shake an original thought into his head, and he had long ago accepted that he could never repay Snape for helping him find his way when all paths seemed to lead to the Dark Lord's feet. "Ever," he added, just for good measure.

"At least you actually earned your marks in my class," said Snape casually, a concession Draco had never before heard him make.

Draco found himself grinning like an idiot, and couldn't be bothered to stop. "Haven't I always said that pretty and brainless was just an act to fool my enemies?"

Snape hid his own answering smile, though it kept peeking out at the corners of his mouth when he spoke. "It's a good thing I'm not your enemy, then, though you may have to work a bit to convince Potter of your wit."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. "Are you kidding? I think after last night he's convinced I'm the only person who can possibly get him through this Courtship with his reputation intact."

Snape finally let his smile out, though it had transformed itself to a more calculating cousin of the original. "Not to mention his virtue," he said.

Draco laughed harder and followed him into the kitchen, where Snape already had supper for two ready under a warming charm. "I see my cunning attempts to seem coy have utterly failed," said Draco, taking a seat at the table. Snape's home was already growing familiar, though he'd only been invited a few times in the past year, and he took the opportunity to look around and see what had changed. It pleased him that Snape had found a way to make a good living for himself despite the lingering stain of his old notoriety, and he saw small signs of that prosperity everywhere, from the stocked bookshelves in the other room to the quality and abundance of the food and cookware in here.

"Years of practice," replied Snape, setting a plate in front of Draco containing a generous slice of steak and kidney pie, a pile of asparagus spears in Hollandaise, and small helping of curried fruit.

Draco smiled and picked up his fork. "At least if I'm still eating with you in a kitchen, hidden away from the world," he said, "the cuisine has vastly improved."

Snape shook his head, though that teasing smile was back, and returned with two glasses and a nice bottle of red wine. "Hardly hidden," he said, pouring for them both.

"Says the man with an Unplottable, unregistered house in the midst of Muggle London," said Draco. He'd half suspected the house was under Fidelius as well, but that didn't seem to be the case; it was simply too much trouble for reporters to find the place, given Potter's very public outrage the last time _The Daily Prophet_ had run a negatively slanted article on Snape.

Snape took a sip of his wine and declined to dignify Draco's comment with a response. Instead, he went back to their original discussion, a subject which was bound to be much on his mind. "Despite my improvements in fortune and demeanour, I have trouble believing that Potter would seriously consider... me."

Draco let out the sad smile he would have kept to himself, were he with anyone but Snape. "Before yesterday I might have agreed, but he's not the rashly prejudiced boy he once was, no more than I am," said Draco. He let an impish curl chase the sadness from his lips and added, "Besides, I saw his face after that kiss. He's curious now, and interested."

Snape raised one eyebrow, busy chewing a mouthful of dinner. Draco took a bite of his own and found it excellent, though of course Snape had always had good taste when they'd had the rare opportunity to acquire fresh food without risk to life and limb.

Snape washed his bite down with a bit of wine and appeared to be contemplating the matter. He finally set down his fork and looked Draco in the eye, making Draco swallow nervously. "And what about you? The foolish crushes of one's youth and your wine-soaked promise aside, I cannot see how I could be a suitable match."

Draco was mortified to feel his cheeks heating. "You have more to offer a man in my position than you might think," said Draco. He stalled for a moment by taking a slow, savouring sip of his own wine, then continued, "I won't decide until I have to, but I won't deny that I'm considering it. You."

Snape looked surprised and gratified, and something else besides that lurked beneath the emotions he was willing to show Draco. Draco hoped his blush wasn't too noticeable and went back to his food, heart hammering in his chest as Snape paused just a little too long for Draco's nerves before replying, "I will keep that in mind." He paused again, just long enough for Draco to start squirming over the thought that he'd made an idiot of himself having a crush on Snape now, just as he had as a boy. "I never expected to have a chance with either of you, and now I find myself overwhelmed by my choices," he said finally, his voice just a little rough.

Draco's eyes snapped up, but Snape's face was carefully blank. Draco cursed the part of him that always wanted what Potter wanted, and even though this time he'd wanted it first it would still be a competition of a sorts. He and Potter would work to capture Snape's attention, while Snape was forced to Court them both and hope he was left with something worth having at the end of it. Draco didn't envy him one bit.

Snape and Draco shared a moment of painful understanding, then Draco gave in to his stupid, eternal urge to make a joke of everything he didn't want to face and said, "At least you're a more worthwhile prize than the House Cup."

"I am not a Snitch," said Snape darkly, but the humour was back in his eyes.

Draco smiled to himself, and the rest of the meal passed in less serious conversation, bandying about ideas for future outings and Snape fishing for gift ideas in a deliberately unsubtle manner, which Draco pretended to be oblivious to anyway. All in all, it was a wonderful evening, and in the end he wasn't even hurt when he was sent away without seeing his own letter, or Potter's. After all, he'd see them both in a day or two.

* * *

Severus stared at the pile of letters, still short two despite the progress he'd made the previous evening. Once Draco had gone, Severus had been unable to concentrate, too distracted by the idea that the body he'd once so sinfully coveted might become legitimately his to pleasure, not to mention the political and social clout that the Malfoy name had regained thanks to Draco's shrewd manoeuvring and Potter's ringing endorsement. He himself had benefited greatly from Potter's vehement defence of his actions, but some things were less forgivable than others, and some people as well.

He dipped his quill in the ink and forced himself to write in the card, carefully following the dictated form and feeling a sense of irony as he did so, knowing that Potter couldn't tell the difference either way.

_Dear Harry,_

_It was an unexpected delight to entertain you at my Courtship Dinner, both for the pleasure of your company and the cachet it provided to the proceedings. To find myself honoured with the opportunity to continue my suit is a most pleasant surprise indeed, and a welcome one as well. You have grown into a remarkable young man, one with whom any person would be lucky to share their life, or even a cup of tea of an afternoon, if that is what is left to us when all is said and done._

_I will send an invitation very soon so that we may become better acquainted and, I hope, finally mend a relationship too long left broken._

_Thank you again for your kindness to me,_

_Yours truly,  
Severus Snape_  
  
---  
  
Severus stared at the note for a long time, hating how very vulnerable he felt, sending a note like this to Harry Potter of all people. Still, it would do as well as any other, and presuming Potter allowed Severus to court him awhile longer, there would be opportunities for more intimate conversation, and time to discover whether Potter could truly consider him as a husband and lover.

Severus shook his head, dismissing the foolish thoughts and sealing the letter away. Potter would likely think it all hot air anyway, pretty words in service of the ritual rather than any sort of sincerity on Severus' part. He quickly addressed the envelope and added it to the pile, pulling over the final pristine card and trying to decide which of the dozen letters he'd written out in his head to use. Despite Draco's kind words after the dinner, Severus hadn't allowed himself to believe that he had any real chance with Draco until last night, when he'd actually blushed, sitting there in Severus' kitchen.

Severus dipped the quill once more, smiling this time as he began to write.

_Dear Draco,_

_I cannot ever thank you enough for everything you've done for me, from agreeing to participate in my Courtship in the first place, to considering my suit out of something more than mere obligation. It would be a privilege and a joy to be allowed to marry you, and I promise we could hire a nanny._

_I believe I have settled on a venue for our next outing, and will be owling invitations as soon as arrangements are made. You, of course, always have an invitation into my home, whether to read my books and drink my tea, or simply become reacquainted now that we are no longer constrained by our old roles._

_I shall never forget the kindnesses you have shown me,_

_Yours truly,  
Severus Snape_  
  
---  
  
It wasn't everything he might have wanted to say, but Severus rather thought that between them it would be enough. Besides, Draco was bound to show Potter the letter, which was reason enough to keep it on the formal side of things. A quick spell dried the ink and Severus had it sealed and ready to go before he could change his mind, taking the top seven cards off the stack and readying his cloak; it was customary to send out the acceptances first, in case one of them had to back out, so that a previous refusal could be quietly rewritten without undue embarrassment on the part of either party.

Wand ready, pouch full of coins and cloak wrapped tightly around him, Severus headed for the post office to send off the owls, brutally dismissing all foolish metaphors about hope and flight from his mind. Now was not the time for such fancy, not with his entire life at stake.

* * *

Malfoy's owl arrived while Harry was still staring at the sealed envelope from Snape, trying to work himself up to opening it. It was ridiculous, of course, that he would be nervous; that didn't stop him from leaving it sealed in favour of opening it at Malfoy's, in less than an hour according to the invitation. After all, he had to shower and dress, so there was no reason to waste time reading something Malfoy would want to see anyway.

The excuse sounded thin even to him, but he left the letter where it was while he showered anyway, dressing in one of his more casual sets of new robes, thankfully ones that had thus far escaped Hedwig's attention. They were heavy silk with a charm on them to allow him to change the colour, or even set it to change in accordance with any number of things. He'd apparently left them set to his mood, as they turned bright pink with a redder spot reminiscent of banked coals over his entire torso. He quickly changed them to shift to go well with his colouring and surroundings, and they faded to a deep red that matched his Gryffindor bedroom set.

They turned a chestnut brown in the living room, fading to black at the hem, and he found he liked the effect almost enough to keep it. The unopened letter went into his pocket, and he hefted the bottle of honey wine he'd had owled from Egypt, then Apparated to the coordinates in Malfoy's note, which turned out to be a small room decorated in green and white marble. His robes turned a deep green that was darker near the floor and brightest at the shoulders, the colour taking on a streaky pattern that felt a little too much like Muggle camouflage. He began to wonder if he'd take on the pattern of the couch like a chameleon when Malfoy came in and distracted him.

"Right on time and dressed like a proper wizard, I see. Hedwig being good?" asked Malfoy, looking smugly amused.

Harry felt the old urge to hex the look off Malfoy's face, but it was a pale shadow of what it had been back when it was fuelled by new hurts and teen angst. Instead he just smirked, handed Malfoy the wine and said, "No, I took all the old robe-remains and left them by her cage, then warded her and the kneazle both out of my wardrobe. I even donated the wool robe to charity." He'd had a lot of nervous energy to burn off in the past few days, and his home was already looking more like an adult actually lived there.

"Nice choice," said Malfoy, looking at the bottle. "Does the kneazle have a name?" he asked, hooking his arm through Harry's to lead him out of the small entryway and into the main foyer, a high-ceilinged room done in white marble and tasteful gilt. Harry's robes shifted, paling until they were a sea green with streaks of white, and a small edging of gold appeared at his cuffs.

He flushed. "Er, not really. I mean, he wasn't really mine, only he is now because the other neighbour is moving next week and she's asked if I'll keep him, so I suppose I ought to..." Harry realized he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. At least until they made their way into a blue and silver parlour off the main hall, and he found Gaerwn already installed there, sipping on a delicate cup of Russian design in blue the exact shade of the couch.

"Harry, nice to see you again!" said Gaerwn cheerfully. "Draco was beginning to worry we'd have to find a chaperone after all."

"Candidates aren't allowed to fraternize with unattached members of their preferred gender without a third party present," explained Malfoy, looking slightly sheepish. "I forgot until I was re-reading the literature I have on the rite, so I asked Gaerwn to join us."

"Oh," said Harry, feeling oddly deflated, though it wasn't like he had designs on Malfoy. Not really, anyway, and he wouldn't have done anything to jeopardise Snape's Courtship. "Well, that's all right, I mean, it's not like you think I've any sort of clue about this stuff."

"I'm fairly sure the entire wizarding world is aware of your lack of education in this regard by now," said Malfoy, referring to the unfortunate _Prophet_ article announcing Snape's Courtship in which Harry and his social blunders featured prominently.

Harry flushed, and Gaerwn laughed. "Watch it, or your robe'll turn red to match," he said, and Harry looked down to see that his robe had gone to the same deep blue as everything else in the room, with a bit of pattern around the hems in white and silver.

"I turned that off," said Harry with a little cough. He pulled the slightly crumpled envelope out of his pocked and sat with a sigh. "Well, I guess I've put this off as long as possible."

"You haven't opened it yet?" said Malfoy, with a note of something Harry couldn't quite define lurking under the mocking disbelief.

Harry shrugged. "I'm a very special boy with very special needs," he said, quoting something he'd heard Malfoy say to Pomfrey once when they were in the infirmary.

Malfoy coughed and reddened and busied himself pouring tea while Harry cracked the seal and read his card. "These are sort of form letters, right?" he asked, puzzling his way through the Snapeish language.

"To an extent," said Malfoy, pulling out his own and swapping it for Harry's. "Well, well, well, it looks like you made an impression on our old teacher."

Harry read Malfoy's and blushed. "Is that all right, you spending time alone with him?"

Malfoy shrugged. "One of the quirks of the custom -- since he's already declared his intent to marry one of us, he's allowed private meetings as it's assumed he wouldn't damage any of us. Of course, virginity is no longer a requirement, but it is still assumed that any affair between the candidate and suitor is trying out the wares so to speak, whereas between candidates it shows a lack of fidelity."

"You talk just like him sometimes," said Harry, shaking his head. The letter to Malfoy was so much warmer, and it brought that chest-squeezing envy back to the fore; Harry was close to so few people these days, physical distance equalling an emotional one with many of his friends.

"I could do worse," said Malfoy in mock-offended tones, reclaiming his letter and giving Harry a perfectly prepared cup of tea.

"What's yours say?" Harry asked Gaerwn, taking a sip.

Gaerwn shrugged. "Didn't bring it, but it was basically the same. Thanks for coming, bet we'd make a nice couple, thanks for the kiss, invite soon, kindness, etc."

"I thought that was a little weird," said Harry, having noted it in both closing lines. "Snape never was much for talking about kindness." Harry gathered his thoughts with another sip of tea and asked as casually as he could manage, "So, are either of you thinking of really marrying him?"

Malfoy shot Harry a look that indicated a less than favourable opinion of Harry's intelligence and tact and said, "I am, yes."

"Oh, yes, especially after that kiss," said Gaerwn, looking amused. That seemed to be his standard response to most everything, which made Harry wonder what he had going on underneath.

"He's very compelling," Malfoy remarked, trying to sound casual and not quite making it.

"That's a good way of putting it," said Harry ruefully, wishing he wasn't feeling quite so compelled at the mere memory of Snape's lips and hands on him.

Gaerwn chuckled. "And now the real reason we meet in threes, so we can't give in to the temptation to hex the competition without witnesses," he said, giving them a wink.

Harry and Malfoy laughed, as much from their shared history as Gaerwn's wit. "I guess that's fair. Did people of, er, better status sometimes do the Courtship?"

"That Fortescue did," said Malfoy. "He likely could have made a good enough claim without it, but this afforded him a lot of legal protection, not to mention a willing spouse to help him run the place."

"Right, you mentioned that," said Harry, settling back into his chair so he could see both Malfoy and Gaerwn. "So, what's next, anyway?"

Malfoy lounged back in his seat as well, somehow making what on Harry was a slouch look graceful and just a touch sexy. "Severus will invite the remaining seven of us to an event, likely something that will give an opportunity to mingle as well as show his capability to share the interests of his future spouse," said Malfoy, his sharp, lecturing tone an obvious imitation of Snape's. "Then he will invite us individually to tea over the course of the following week, the order of the invitations carefully arranged so as to convey subtle status to his favoured candidates, and he will present us each with our second token, and anyone who wishes to back out will take that opportunity to inform him."

"And how many do we go down to then, four?" asked Harry. That was one more than half, just like the previous time.

Malfoy shook his head. "Five, actually. Then it will go down to three, and from those three he will attempt to win a spouse. Traditionally at that point there is one who is ahead of the pack, so to speak, but the one Severus most desires may not be the one willing to accept his proposal. Three marriage contracts will be drawn up, and all three of the final candidates will receive offers. If he gets more than one acceptance, which is often the case, then he will be allowed some small choice in the rest of his life."

"So right now he's just hoping that the person he really wants is willing to stick it out long enough for him to convince them he's worth marrying?" asked Harry, getting another of those calculating looks from Malfoy.

"That is correct. Though occasionally a suitor will be unable to choose between two candidates and all three will form a household together, that is very rare unless it was the intention from the start, as a Petitioner's Courtship is one of the few ways to achieve such a thing legally," said Malfoy distantly, obviously lost in thought.

Harry blinked. "Three? Wow, that's... you'd have to buy a big bed."

Gaerwn laughed. "There hasn't been a marriage like that in nigh on a hundred years, and as Draco said, usually it was done by people who were in love already and wanted to legally wed."

"So, if the three of us fall madly in love," said Harry, his tone teasing but mind whirling, "then one of us would have to do this whole Courtship thing and pursue all those people just so we three could marry?"

"Right," said Gaerwn, eyes twinkling. "It's to show your eyes won't stray, even when you're courting the cream of society, because it was considered a great compliment to be invited in that case, the implication being that marrying the person in question would be nearly as good as getting to wed your two loves."

"And here I thought 'implication' had too many syllables in it for you," said Malfoy, eyes twinkling, back from wherever his mind had gone. "You were in Ravenclaw and you're fooling us all, aren't you?"

Gaerwn flushed and laughed. "You caught me," he said sheepishly. "No one likes a smart Beater, so I'm used to hiding it."

Harry chuckled. "You'll be sad to find out I'm just not that bright," he said, thinking back to all the trouble he'd had keeping up in school. He'd always thought it was a minor miracle he'd learned enough to pass any NEWTs besides Defence, and a much larger one that he'd killed Voldemort, even with everyone helping him from Hermione to Snape.

They laughed on cue, and then Malfoy and Gaerwn got into a discussion of the tradition and its origins, and Harry tuned them out. He couldn't care less if it was 1423 or 1432 when they abolished the Courtship Chaperone, or what year the Ministry stopped verifying the virginity of all candidates before and after the Courtship, only that they had. Instead he allowed himself to fantasize just a little on the idea of him in bed with not one but two other men, though his mind couldn't quite decide which two it wanted to present to him. He wasn't as surprised as he thought he'd be that no women appeared in any of the permutations, though he had snogged a few in his time and found it nearly as inspiring as the single time he'd had a chance to snog a bloke for more than two seconds.

He realised that their conversation had stopped and they were staring at him, and said intelligently, "Er, what?"

Gaerwn hid his laugh in his teacup, but Malfoy didn't bother. "I asked if you wanted to have tea here, or go out somewhere."

"And I asked when I could take the two of you out properly to tour the Quidditch pitch during a practice, in the time where you were busy not answering Draco," said Gaerwn, eyes dancing with mischief.

Harry chuckled wryly. "Anytime, and wherever you two prefer, though I'll remind you of my table manners before you drag me to some posh restaurant."

"Trust Potter to not care about the bill, but worry about his bad press," drawled Malfoy in a fair imitation of his old self.

Harry glared. "You know perfectly well that I've got plenty stashed away, especially after living abroad on Gringotts' Knut for the past few years," he said, pretending an affront, though he wasn't about to expose poor Gaerwn to the levels of hostility he'd presented to Malfoy in their school days.

"Well, as I'm a mere second-stringer, I'll go wherever the two of you are paying," said Gaerwn.

They both laughed. "Sorry," said Harry, giving Gaerwn an apologetic wink. "We were just revisiting our old school rivalry. We were infamous, you know."

"More house points were lost to hexing one another than thwarting the Dark Lord, I suspect," said Malfoy dryly.

Harry laughed, and Gaerwn looked confused. "I got in trouble a lot for being out after curfew and stuff, things that happened to me because of Voldemort one way or another. One year Malfoy's old house elf locked me out of the platform at King's Cross, and so Ron and I crashed his dad's flying car into the Whomping Willow."

"I thought you two would never make it up to your House, losing that many points before term even started," said Malfoy with just a little too much glee.

Harry shrugged. "Dumbledore always gave them back somehow," he said, sighing. "At least that wasn't as bad as the time I nearly got expelled because of Umbridge, or dragged into that stupid Tournament by Crouch, Jr." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but didn't quite manage, getting a sympathetic look from Malfoy and a thoughtful one from Gaerwn.

"So, you didn't really enter the Triwizard Tournament yourself?" asked Gaerwn, brows knitting. "I remember all the fuss about that the summer after, saying you were crazy and had put yourself in the Goblet and then made the whole thing up for attention."

"Turns out they were wrong," said Harry, not bothering to hide his bitterness anymore. "Though it did teach me a lot about the press."

"Ah, I had wondered why you only give interviews to that one reporter," said Gaerwn.

"You, er, follow my press?" said Harry, squirming. He was used to the idea of some people doing it, sure, but someone he'd just met and begun to feel like he was making friends with, well, it was a little surreal.

Gaerwn shrugged and looked a bit sheepish. "Best way to see if you're going to be competition, or having to defeat You Know Who a third time, or getting hitched to some beautiful witch from a far-off land."

Malfoy snorted at the last one. "Seems to me like it'd be more likely to be a handsome wizard."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Malfoy as a way to prevent himself from casting the Bat Bogey Hex or something equally childish. "I'm still deciding," said Harry defensively, arms crossed over his chest.

Gaerwn laughed at them both. "Still deciding it is, then," he said. "And we know Malfoy's a proper shirt lifter, and I like to ride either side of the broom, but I do prefer being the one to wield the bat either way."

It took a moment for Harry to puzzle out the metaphors, and then he blushed and was saved from embarrassment when Malfoy drawled, "Are you a gifted with a particularly nice broom, or just afraid to let someone else be the Beater?"

Harry snorted, and Gaerwn shrugged. "Bit of both, I expect, mostly I've never really found it all that, er, satisfying to play Keeper."

"What's a Chaser, then?" asked Harry, before he could shut himself up. He'd spent a lot of his adult life carefully not talking about sex so as to keep his own lack of experience from becoming painfully obvious, and as a result most innuendo just passed him by.

Gaerwn's eyebrows knit, and Malfoy chuckled and said, "In this situation? Snape, I should think, though perhaps he's the Seeker."

Gaerwn grinned. "Catching the Snitch always was my favourite part."

Harry coughed and Malfoy looked smugly superior. His relaxed posture shifted and suddenly became sensual and inviting, and he practically purred as he said, "You've just never played the game with the right team, obviously."

The conversation continued in that vein, Gaerwn and Malfoy growing more and more suggestive while Harry tried to keep up and not utterly humiliate himself, and mostly succeeded. At some point platters of assorted finger foods appeared in front of them and they ate as they talked, and the question of going out answered itself. The topic wandered away from sex eventually, leading all over the map both figuratively and literally as they covered Harry's work as well as Gaerwn and Malfoy's respective careers; Gaerwn let drop that he was up for the first-string spot this year, and Malfoy talked about the negotiations in place to build another Alley off of Diagon, this one a residential district to allow people to live among wizards without having to move to a place like Hogsmeade.

Harry thought this would be a brilliant idea, as the Muggles upstairs kept getting their knickers in a twist about his owl, and confusing the kneazle with a stray cat and telling him to get it fixed.

Later still, the tea and food disappeared and after-dinner drinks replaced them, crystal carafes of things Harry could hardly identify, and an array of appropriate glassware to go with them. 

Malfoy examined the bottles, picking up one that held a familiar pale golden liquid. "It looks like Winky decanted your gift, perhaps we ought to try it in celebration of our new friendship?"

Harry grinned. "Sure, that'd be brilliant."

Gaerwn looked intrigued. "What'd you bring, then?"

"Illegal Egyptian honey wine, the sort made with Paradise Poppy honey," said Malfoy with a little leer.

Harry laughed. "It is not illegal, it was delivered by a Customs owl yesterday," he said. "This sort uses Prosperity Poppies. It's still magical and rare, but it won't make you any more drunk than any other strong wine."

Malfoy pouted showily. "And here I thought you liked me."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I do like you. At least it isn't Flora's Fertility Flowers," he replied dryly, taking the decanter and pouring them all a generous amount. He handed them each one of the long-stemmed glasses and made a toast, "To a prosperous future, whoever it might be with."

"Prosperity," they replied, and all three of them drank. The wine was gently chilled, sweet but not cloying with just a hint of flowers that was likely just Harry's imagination, considering it took more than a few steps to get from poppies to wine. Harry hoped that their magic had survived the customs inspection; they could all use a bit of prosperity, whether the material sort or simply a bit of happiness.

"This is good," said Gaerwn appreciatively, eyes half-lidded with pleasure as he took another sip.

"You're both quite welcome," said Harry, letting the lingering warmth of magic relax him just as the coolness of the wine itself refreshed, smiling languidly at his two newest friends.

"So," said Malfoy, looking like a cat in cream, "if Harry's a remarkable young man, and I'm a privilege and a joy, what are you?"

Gaerwn laughed. "Lively, attractive, and remarkable, I believe," he said, chuckling. "Apparently I ought to have brought my letter."

"Have you written back yet?" asked Harry curiously; that was the one thing on today's agenda he didn't want to forget, as he had no idea what he was supposed to say.

"Nope," said Gaerwn, giving Malfoy a significant glance. "Our smug friend is supposed to help me with mine, as well."

Malfoy laughed. "Yes, of course, I took the initiative and bought three sets of the stationery for candidates, so we can get started whenever you like."

Harry grinned shyly. "Now would be good," he said, taking another sip of his wine. "I'd better do it before I get too drunk, my handwriting's appalling enough as it is."

The array of alcoholic drinks vanished, replaced by a silver salver containing quills, ink, sealing wax in several colours, a wooden box, several rolls of parchment and a small pile of note cards. Harry laughed, delighted; he wasn't home enough to even consider a house elf of his own, but he'd been pleased when Hermione told him that Winky had latched onto the Malfoy household and was doing well under her new master.

Malfoy summoned a book from his desk and opened it to a ribbon-marked spot, then handed it to Gaerwn. "That's the form we're to follow, we'll do mine first, then yours, and then Potter's, as his is bound to be the most difficult."

"Why mine?" asked Harry, curious.

"Mine can be fairly informal, as I've known Severus for years, where Gaerwn knows so little of Severus that he can pretty much follow the form with only a few personal touches. You've got that history that's got to be considered," explained Malfoy, picking up one of the heavy cards and a quill.

"Good thinking," said Gaerwn, handing Harry the book.

Harry looked at the page, but it didn't make much sense to him since the whole thing was in a sort of shorthand that assumed the reader was familiar with the conventions of formal writing. "You'll have to explain it to me," said Harry, tired of always being the dunce.

Malfoy actually looked a bit sympathetic, which made Harry feel worse, if anything. "I'll read mine out loud, and you follow along," he said, "I have most of it in my head anyway."

Harry sighed and nodded, and Malfoy began, writing first and then reading aloud.

_Dear Severus,_

_It means a great deal to me that you consider me worthy of being your husband and sharing the future you've worked so hard to build. I gladly accept your suit, and eagerly look forward to the next invitation, and all the ones after that as well._

_Yours truly,  
Draco_  
  
---  
  
"So, that's greeting, thanks, acceptance, closure?" asked Harry, figuring out that the random-seeming table of lists was actually a set of possible forms.

"Right. Since I've known Severus for so many years, and been friends, I can skip the compliment and personal remark," said Malfoy, doing the spell to dry the ink. He handed Gaerwn the quill and another note card and said, "Read yours as you write as well, so I can correct it, and Harry can hear the long form."

"Sure," said Gaerwn amiably, "Book?"

Harry handed it off, and Gaerwn set it floating in front of him so he could refer to it as he wrote. "You know the opening and closing, though I'll say Dear Mr. Snape, and Sincerely instead of Yours truly," he said, scribbling something on the card as he spoke.

"All right," said Harry, biting his lip. "So, er, what next?"

"'Thank you for considering me as a candidate in your Petitioner's Courtship'," read Gaerwn, pausing to write a little more. "'You're a very compelling man with a fascinating history and a good heart.' Er, that's the compliment, obviously."

"Obviously," said Harry, suppressing the urge to giggle like Frannie. "So next you'll say something personal?"

"Right, it'll be something that explains why I'm considering him at all," said Gaerwn, stopping to think, quill scratching when he finally decided. "Pretty much told him I'm tired of being second string, and have been thinking of settling down," he said with a little blush.

"All right," said Harry, willing to let it go at that. "Then you say that you're accepting and looking forward to his invitation and Bob's your uncle?"

"It's a Muggle thing," explained Malfoy, when Gaerwn looked confused. "He means, and then it's all done."

"Oh, right. Was wondering who Bob was," he said, writing out the last few lines and signing it. "Er, d'you need to see it?" he asked Malfoy.

Malfoy shook his head. "You've got the gist, I'm sure it's fine."

Harry sighed. "So it's me, then," he said, downing the last of his wine. "Why don't you write the draft out on parchment, and I can copy the final onto the card?"

Malfoy smiled. "See? Smarter than he looks, our Harry," he said, taking up one of the small rolls. "So you'll want to start with Dear Severus, just like I did, because you've known him since you were eleven and he called you Harry in his letter."

"Right. And then I thank him for considering me, so, something like, 'I was surprised to get your invitation, but I'm quite glad you thought of me, and happier that I accepted. It was very good to see you again'," he paused. "Um, then a compliment?"

"And I think we should make it pleasantly surprised, and... hm," he said, erasing and rewriting a bit. "Anyway, the start of that second sentence leads well into a compliment."

"Well, Gaerwn already stole compelling, so maybe something about how much better he looks nowadays? Or is that too much like insulting who he used to be?" asked Harry, biting his lip. He didn't think they'd get through the whole courtship without at least touching on their less than pleasant past, and Snape had made a sort of reference to it in his letter, anyway.

Malfoy looked thoughtful. "Perhaps something about how good it was to see him smile, free from the cares of the past?"

"Ooh, I like that," said Gaerwn, grinning. "I heard those two practically hated each other back in the day."

"You are way too interested in my life," said Harry darkly, trying not to be amused.

"Anyway," said Malfoy, interrupting before Gaerwn could bring any defence to bear, "Next you need to say something personal, something that would explain why you've stuck around and hints at the fact that you're not just doing this on a lark," said Malfoy, shooting them both a quelling look.

"Yes, Master Malfoy," said Harry teasingly, sitting back. "Damn, and I have to tell you, because otherwise I might bollix it up." He tried to think, but something personal enough to fulfil the requirement yet public enough he didn't mind discussing it with Malfoy and Gaerwn wasn't coming to mind.

"Well, let's skip to the end, and then you can think awhile longer," said Malfoy, his face carefully neutral.

"Am I allowed to cheat here and just say I'm looking forward to his invitation, and terribly curious about what he'll come up with next?" asked Harry, suddenly feeling very tired.

"Yes, that will do perfectly," said Malfoy, writing down something that Harry had a feeling would be a hundred times more suave than what Harry had come up with. Which was, of course, the point of having Malfoy help him.

"Why are you considering him, anyway?" asked Gaerwn, with the air of someone who's been dying to ask and had considered it too nosy a question up until now.

Harry sighed. "I don't know, I guess... I guess it's because I'm tired of running from my life and I want to start living it, and Severus would be someone to share it with that understands the bad old days and that sometimes I'm still living in them, and sometimes I just want to hex everyone to get them to leave me alone, and sometimes... well, that's enough, isn't it?" he said, unwilling to explain the loneliness that had always come hand in hand with being Harry Potter, and how sharply he understood Snape's desire to have a real family of his own.

"That's enough," said Malfoy quietly. He wrote something else on the parchment and handed it to Harry, who read it to himself and had to agree that it was much better than what he'd have written, but said pretty much what he wanted to say. "Here, let me change this one thing," he said, taking the quill and erasing 'marry' and changing it to 'have a family with'. He rather thought Snape would understand and appreciate the distinction.

"Here you go," said Malfoy, handing Harry the last of the cards.

Harry checked the front just in case, finding not the Slytherin or Malfoy crests but a simple design of two crossed wands, gold sparks coruscating from the ends of them. "Thanks," he said, setting up much as Gaerwn had with the scroll floating in front of him and copying out Malfoy's neat handwriting into his own messy scrawl.

They put them in the envelopes and Malfoy took a heavy gold seal out of the box to seal his up with green wax, while Gaerwn borrowed the blue wax and sealed his with a silver Sickle. "I'll do mine at home, I've got that stupid seal," said Harry, embarrassed that he hadn't thought to bring the thing. It had magic laced through it, a gift from the Ministry to assure that all correspondence on certain issues came from him and could only be opened by the intended recipient. Now that he was done giving testimony, he mostly used it to send letters to Ron and Hermione, but it would do for this as well.

"And if you marry Severus, your children will have it as well," said Malfoy, not quite teasingly enough. That gave Harry pause, the idea that he'd have not only kids but things to pass on to them besides bad hair and worse eyesight.

"Yeah, I suppose so," he said, sitting back and folding the parchment into a tiny, messy little packet. It went into his pocket along with both letters. "Well, no use thinking of that for a bit yet," he said, smiling in an attempt to change the subject. "I don't even know that Severus is really considering me, no matter what the letter says. He could just be keeping me on until the numbers dwindle a bit."

"Somehow," said Gaerwn, finishing his own wine and giving Harry a considering look, "I sincerely doubt that."


	3. Second Chances

Severus had always hated his appearance. Knowing he could be anyone he wanted with the right potions didn't help, because underneath he'd always know who he was, skinny and sallow, greasy and ugly and wholly unpleasant, a boy who'd failed to make friends even in Slytherin.

A simple potion mixed into his shampoo cured the greasiness of his hair in a matter of weeks, with the side effect of speeding growth until the thick, glossy stuff fell past his shoulders. Another mixed into his morning tea took years of stains off his teeth, though he couldn't bring himself to spare the expense of having them straightened. His features he left as they were, unwilling to face a man in the mirror he couldn't properly recognise, but he began deliberately leaving off his hat and gloves when working in the garden, which darkened the pasty yellow of his skin to a pale olive, at least on his face and hands.

He was still a dour, unattractive man, with stained fingers and a dark past, but at least his hair invited touch rather than revulsion, and his teeth and skin were once again markedly different in hue, the way he could faintly remember seeing himself when he was a young boy, before adolescence and too much time indoors had robbed him of what little attractiveness he'd held. He stared at the two cards stuck to the mirror, allowing himself to flip up Potter's and read it one more time, eyes automatically skimming to the part that mattered to him the most.

_I am tired of running from myself, from other people's impressions of a past I didn't choose and everything I lost along the way, or never had to start with. I have sought my fortune as a stranger in strange lands, when all I ever wanted was a home. It is time I started living, and I find myself hoping that you truly want to have a family with me, and that together we can build a future that neither of us could find alone._

There was an honesty in those lines that called to the same longing in Severus that had started this whole farce, the desire to not only give to his children what he did not have, but to finally have it for himself. Severus let himself hope, against all odds, that he might win the heart of a boy he once hated on sight, so that together they could become more than they were apart.

He flipped open Draco's card and let that warm him as well, the very brevity speaking to their long acquaintance and bringing to mind that dinner in his kitchen, the teas they'd had since, and how much less lonely his house became when Draco was there with him. It was his very desire not to impinge on Draco's future happiness that would keep Severus from trying too hard to win him, and the irony wasn't lost on him. He stepped back and looked at his clothing one more time, the mahogany brown silk of his robes bringing out the new colour in his cheeks and hanging elegantly on his spare frame. His hair had been pulled back in a simple tail with a silver clasp, and the crisp white of his undershirt showed at his wrists and throat, hinting at what lay underneath.

His expression was nervous and annoyed, mostly with himself and his own anxieties. He had called in any number of favours to facilitate this evening's events, to the point of playing to his own infamy to arrange the venue. He was rapidly realising the Courtship expenses alone would put him in the poorhouse if he did not marry well at the end, and that only added to the stress of an already monumental undertaking; his own foolish hopes for something like affection from his spouse only compounded his worries. He sighed and tried to put a pleasantly neutral expression on his face, hoping it would look a bit less nauseous by the time he'd made the trip to the gallery.

* * *

  
Commissioned art by [Lizardspots](http://www.lizardjunk.net)

Harry and Draco were the last to arrive this time instead of the first, since Draco had insisted on inspecting Harry's clothing before they left, and Gaerwn had wanted to meet Hedwig afterward, impressed with the scratches she'd made on the wood in protest when she'd found herself unable to get into Harry's wardrobe. 

Draco had shown up impeccably dressed in traditional robes of elf-spun spider silk that seemed to float around him like storm clouds, in every shade of grey imaginable. Gaerwn wore a serviceable set of linen robes dyed the exact green of his team colours, with a subtle pattern of kestrels woven into the fabric that flew and dived in silhouette. Harry had been planning on wearing the colour-changing robes, but those were vetoed in favour of simple black velvet robes that clung to him like a second skin, and reminded Harry uncomfortably of wearing a dress. He'd bought them on Madam Malkin's recommendation, but had secretly hoped they'd be one of Hedwig's first victims this year, as the silk velvet was soft and supple and woven through with protection spells.

Harry still felt like everyone could see what kind of pants he was wearing underneath, and had the disconcerting impression that Lenis at least approved wholeheartedly.

"Harry, Draco, Gaerwn, I'm so glad you all could make it," said Snape, his smile looking relieved though they'd arrived right on time. He turned to the other four and said, "Now that everyone is assembled, I am very happy to show you my surprise."

They all followed Snape from the spacious reception chamber of the Fizeau Gallery and into its interior, the walls lined with portraits, each spotlighted in a wide space of its own so that the viewer might converse with it in privacy. Harry didn't recognise most of the people, though everyone else seemed to, gasping and heading for one painting or another. He felt the air leave his own lungs when his eyes made it to the back of the room and found the one familiar face he was sure was here for him, the very portrait of Albus Dumbledore that normally resided in the Headmistress' office at Hogwarts.

"You may converse with the portraits freely," said Snape, his voice raised and echoing oddly in the large room. "There are spells in place to keep your conversation private, and when you feel the need for refreshment, a buffet has been provided." He gestured to the other side of the room where an impressive spread weighed down one large table, with three smaller ones scattered around it for people to sit and eat.

Harry wasn't sure he could stomach food, but he was grateful nonetheless. He went first to Snape, heart in his throat, and said softly, "Thank you for this, I... would you like to talk to him first?"

Snape shook his head, smiling sadly. "I have had ample opportunity to make my peace with the late Headmaster, Harry. This is your time."

Harry nodded and left without another word, not having any idea of how to reply even if he had been able to speak past the tightness in his throat. Dumbledore's death was one thing Harry had never been sure he could forgive in his heart, but he found that sometime in the past few years it had become just one more loss in a sea of loss. He stepped into the circle of light in front of Dumbledore's portrait, swallowing down all the accusations he'd spent years not saying.

"It's good to see you again," said Harry quietly, looking into the familiar face and feeling the old resentment sliding away at the sadness in Dumbledore's painted eyes.

"It is good to see you, as well, my boy," said Dumbledore, smiling up at Harry from the small canvas. "I was thrilled enough to insist Minerva loan my portrait out when Severus told me he was Courting you."

Harry couldn't help but return the smile. "Among others, yes, though I'm a lot more impressed than I thought I'd be," he said. He stepped a little closer to the painting and added softly, "I thought I resented you for manipulating my whole life, but I guess... I guess you gave up as much as I did, and it wasn't you that marked me in the first place."

"No, Harry, it was not me, though I have had a long time to regret the things which had to be done, once that terrible event occurred," said Dumbledore, face sober.

Harry nodded. "And Snape, he... you knew, didn't you, what he had to do?"

Dumbledore took a small box from his robes and popped a familiar smear of yellow into his mouth. "They never taste right anymore," he said sadly, then sighed. "Yes, Harry, Severus and I both knew what was to pass that night."

Harry found himself nodding again, letting the pieces finally snap together into places they'd already loosely occupied, his understanding sharpening painfully. "I can't say I'm happy you did it, but I understand now, I guess. I won't... I can't promise it won't affect the way I see him, but I know that I want it not to, just like I want him to see me as the man I am now and not the boy he knew in school, or a copy of my dad."

The twinkle was back in Dumbledore's eyes when Harry looked back up, a smile making his face seem nearly alive, as though Harry was looking through a window rather than at a portrait of a man long dead. "I would offer you a sweet, but I'm afraid the magic doesn't work the way we want it to."

Harry laughed. "It never does," he replied, looking over at Snape, who was standing by the buffet looking nervous and severe, and yet still better than he had in all the time Harry had known him. "It's all right, I'm more in the mood for something sour anyway."

Dumbledore was still chuckling when Harry left the area of the spell, the sound receding like a radio station fading out as he left the broadcast area.

"I take it you enjoyed your talk with the former Headmaster?" asked Snape, looking wary and weary both.

"Yes," said Harry. "You did a good thing, putting this together for us. Thank you."

Snape bowed his head in acknowledgement. "You are most welcome. It is unfortunate that many of those with whom you might wish to speak had no opportunity to have their portraits painted before they passed away."

"As much as it would have been nice to see my parents or Sirius," said Harry, keeping his voice steady with an effort as that tight feeling returned to his throat, "I'm not sure I'd want to, in front of this crowd. I know Dumbledore can fend for himself."

"Yes, the gallery would likely find itself mobbed on the morrow, were I to have procured a portrait of the Potters or the infamous Sirius Black for them," said Snape dryly. He softened just a touch and added, "I do wish there was a way to allow you to have the family you want, rather than having to settle for..."

"It's not settling," said Harry, surprising himself with his own vehemence. He laid a hand on Snape's arm and said more calmly, "I'm not stupid, I know I could have any witch or wizard I wanted if I tried, but just anyone won't... wouldn't understand."

"And you believe I do," said Snape, looking as though he might want to swallow the words and the unmistakable disbelief that accompanied them.

Harry shrugged. "More than most, at any rate," he said, snagging a plate off the table for something to do with his hands. "You'll never sit there wondering if I'm going to snap at the breakfast table one day and use an Unforgivable on you."

Snape laughed, and Harry relaxed minutely. "No, I would not," said Snape, and Harry found himself noticing Snape's looks, unable to pin down what he'd done to make himself more appealing, aside from the obvious washing and lengthening of his hair.

"You look good like this," said Harry, unable to hold back the tinge of surprise. "I'm sorry, I mean..."

Snape held up a hand. "It's all right, Harry, I know what you mean. It is gratifying to know that my efforts weren't for naught." He paused, eyes flicking down and then sliding more slowly back up Harry's body. "You are looking rather fetching tonight, yourself."

Harry flushed. "Malfoy made me wear them," he said, putting food on his plate between shy glances over at Snape. It was mostly finger foods, and Snape had apparently had the same restaurant cater, since there were baskets of some of the pasties that had graced Harry's plate at the first Courtship dinner.

"He has excellent taste," said Snape, waiting until Harry turned away to reach for something further down the table before adding, "They showcase your assets well."

Harry began mentally plotting ways to kill Malfoy.

* * *

Knowing that Potter would want to be the first to speak with the Headmaster's portrait, Draco made a beeline for one undoubtedly acquired with him in mind, Dame Amanita Malfoy, one of the ancestors who had fallen out of favour with his grandparents and been removed from the family gallery. He stepped into the pool of light with the portrait and said cheerfully, "Good evening, Great-great-grandmother."

"You must be Lucius' boy," she said, looking him over critically. The portrait had been painted near the end of her life, and she was an imposing old matron in heavy, jewel-encrusted robes that looked as though they might be supporting her rather than the other way around. "He married that Black woman, Narcissa, didn't he?"

Draco smiled. "Yes, Grandmother," he said. "I'm Draco Malfoy." He gave a little bow, old-fashioned nowadays but the height of good manners when speaking with a portrait of her age, or so he'd been taught.

"Hmph. You're less arrogant than your father, at least. That'll do you good in trying to salvage the family name, you know," she said.

"I see being outside the gallery hasn't kept you from hearing the news," said Draco wryly. "Would you like to hear my plans? I would love to get the advice of someone so honoured in her day."

Dame Malfoy appeared to consider this, though Draco recognized the glint of curiosity in her painted eyes. "So long as it's none of this pureblood nonsense. There's a difference between good breeding and foolish adherence to family lines. We aren't royals, and inbreeding is unbecoming anyone, even a wizard."

"That's very well-said, Grandmother, I can understand why you must have annoyed my grandfather," said Draco, trying very hard not to smirk.

She laughed. "He was an old fool, and unfortunately passed his ideas on to his son. I'm glad to see you haven't swallowed their swill."

Draco shrugged expressively. "I have seen all the places where the argument is flawed," he said. "Now, about my plans..." He settled in to give her a brief outline of his original ideas, and the ways in which he thought he'd have to change things, were he to marry Snape. She let him talk himself out, interjecting a question here and there, and he was surprised at how much better he felt once he got to the end of it. He hadn't had anyone to talk to about his ambitions that would properly understand; the family gallery were all of Lucius' ilk these days, though he vowed to try and restore some of his more moderate ancestors' portraits.

"It seems to me as though the affection you have for the man outweighs the setback his presence will give to your image," said his great-great-grandmother gently. They both glanced over to see Potter speaking with Snape, already done and standing by the buffet, plate of food in hand and looking entirely too delectable in his form-fitting robes. "Though it also seems you've a bit of competition."

"Not that I can blame him," said Draco wistfully. He found himself increasingly attracted to Potter, not just the echoes of his schoolboy obsession though those were certainly there, but to this new man who didn't care much what anyone thought, who had come to terms with the things life had denied him and learned to compensate, but still had that same clueless charm he'd exuded as a boy, as though all he wanted was to be loved.

"Oh, dear," said Dame Malfoy, glancing from him to the pair. "You, my boy, are well and truly doomed. Although... this is a Petitioner's Courtship, is it not?"

"Yes, for Snape to carry on his mother's line," said Draco, distracted still watching the two of them move to a table and sit.

"Well, perhaps you'll all work something out, then," she said with a satisfied air. "Now move along, I can see that young master Lenis is practically wetting himself with the desire to speak with me."

Draco turned the other way and found Lenis lurking in the shadows. "Oh," he said softly, wondering how much Lenis had seen of his expression and if it was as obvious as Dame Malfoy seemed to think. "It's been lovely speaking with you, Grandmother," said Draco, bowing again.

She inclined her head regally, then gave him the sort of smile Draco had always wanted to get from a doting grandparent. "Do visit me again, Draco. I enjoy you, and your plans."

"Slytherin to the core," he said, gently touching her hand with his fingertips, feeling the rough dryness of the paint and wondering if her skin would have been much different, had she still been alive.

"Once a Malfoy, always a Malfoy," she replied with a wink. "Go on, go sit with your young men."

Draco blushed and nodded, letting his fingers trail over the gilt frame as he stepped out of the spell and into the hushed room. He glanced over at Snape and Potter, but he wanted to make one more stop before he let himself join them. He stepped into another circle, surprised that it was vacant although most of the others appeared thoroughly engaged by the portraits they were speaking to. "Good evening, Professor," he said formally.

"Mr. Malfoy, you've grown into a fine young man," said Dumbledore, eyes twinkling. "I am given to understand that you have rethought your allegiances and are turning your energies to a more fruitful pursuit?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes, Headmaster. Severus was very open with me, after we fled school, and we talked about things in a way that made sense to me." Snape understood Draco's upbringing, and he'd used examples from Draco's experience at Hogwarts to refute every one of his father's prejudices. Draco hated that Hermione Granger had been one of Snape's prime examples, though he'd had a few moments of rather malicious glee when they'd discussed Longbottom as a failure of pure blood. "I've been trying to use my inheritance to rebuild and strengthen the wizarding world, rather than trying to control it as my father always wanted."

"Very wise for one so young," said Dumbledore, that infuriating smile widening even further. It had been easier to accept those truths from Snape, who he'd always respected, than the mad headmaster and his cronies. "I expect the status you'll regain for the Malfoy name will only be a bonus."

"I was in Slytherin, Headmaster," said Draco, as if that would explain everything.

Apparently, it explained enough. "And so you were," Dumbledore replied. "Well, seeing what you have become, I find it very easy to forgive your attempts to do away with me."

Draco felt something inside him relax, though he hadn't realised until that moment that this was what he'd wanted, some reassurance that the mistakes of his youth weren't so unforgivable as all that. "Thank you," he said quietly, a smile finding its way to his face despite himself.

"You're quite welcome," said Dumbledore. He gave Draco a shrewd look and asked, "You are allowing Severus a fair chance in Courting you, I hope?"

Draco glanced over to the buffet; Snape and Potter were still sitting alone at one table, and the unlikely pairing of Trimble and Malkin were sitting at one of the others, chatting amiably. "More than fair, I should think," he said, unable to hide the warm longing in his voice.

"Ah, I see. Excellent," said Dumbledore. He popped a painted sweet into his mouth and smiled, looking terribly satisfied with everything.

Draco snorted. "Yes, Headmaster. Thank you for your time," he said, eager to get away from the old fool and back to the process of doing what a Malfoy did best, getting what he wanted.

"You're very welcome, my dear boy," said Dumbledore, sitting back in his chair and looking for all the world as though he might have a nap.

"Good day," said Draco, taking himself swiftly out of earshot of any parting words.

Potter looked up and waved him over, and Draco tried to ignore the warmth that spread in his chest at the gesture. "I see you two are getting along," he said, giving Potter a teasing little nudge. "Is there room for one more?" he asked, despite the two empty chairs at the table.

Potter laughed. "Plenty," he said, scooting his chair back. "I'll go with you if you're going to eat, I want some more juice."

"Bring me a glass of red wine?" asked Snape, looking slightly bemused to find himself so much in demand.

"Of course, Severus," said Potter.

When they got over to the buffet, Potter whispered, "I'm going to kill you for making me wear these. I look like a, a trollop."

"Severus doesn't seem to mind," replied Draco calmly, taking up a plate and filling it from the delicacies on the table. "It's generally a good thing when one's future spouse wants to bed one, you know."

Potter flushed. "I suppose, it's just... embarrassing."

Draco gave him a little nudge. "Don't be embarrassed. You'll have him eating out of the palm of your hand in no time," said Draco. "It's the secret to dealing with a man like Severus," he added, thinking of his parents and the way Narcissa had often handled his father, "You have something he wants, and you remind him how much more interesting it is to be pleasant than difficult."

Potter laughed, shaking his head as he poured a generous glass of wine for Snape, and one of pumpkin juice for himself. "You're definitely Slytherin," he said, giving Draco a friendly nudge. "It's a good thing I can't have you both, I'd be totally outnumbered."

Draco was almost glad when Potter left to rejoin Snape, as he had no idea what to say to that in light of his own newfound frustration with wanting them both. Now that he'd admitted it to himself, Draco was finding it a lot harder to ignore the confused longing that had settled in below his breastbone. He shrugged, took a few more of the truffles Snape had so kindly acquired, and headed back to sit with them.

"...so if you complete the Courtship then it doesn't matter how many, er, Petitions you've got it covering?" Potter was asking.

"Well, not precisely," said Snape. "This Courtship was specifically registered for the purpose of regaining my mother's name, so the only thing you could add on at the end would be something unusual in the marriage."

"Like a threesome," said Draco impishly, sitting deliberately between them. "Or marriage with someone who would otherwise not be allowed that right, though that would jeopardize his first goal in that case, which is why there are none of those here."

"So, if Lupin wanted to get married, he'd have to do this Petitioner thing?" asked Potter, appalled.

"Precisely," said Snape with a smirk.

"Just think," said Draco, determined not to let the conversation wander until he'd assessed his chances at getting what he wanted after all, "you could end up with two lovely young husbands instead of just one." He laid a hand on Potter's arm and fluttered his eyelashes, then turned and did the same to Snape.

Potter flushed, but he was not to be deterred. "Why do they make you go through it at all? I mean, it's awfully old-fashioned, isn't it?"

"It is our way," said Snape, sounding a bit put out by Harry's questions. "Our culture requires that something of such value be earned rather than simply demanded."

"I guess that makes sense, it just all seems a bit mercenary to me," said Potter, looking sulky. He was nibbling on one of those pasties, mouth pink and probably cool from the pumpkin juice, sweet and a little spicy from the pasty.

Draco tried to keep his mind on things, turning to look at Snape. Snape took a sip from his wineglass, throat working, lips stained briefly red until his tongue slipped out to catch the stray drops, and Draco swallowed as well, throat feeling unaccountably dry.

"A surprising number of marriages are made for reasons other than love," Snape was saying, a statement with which Draco could only agree. "And while it is true that it would likely be loveless were I to end up with someone such as Lenis, there are others here with whom I hope to find at least some small measure of affection."

"Marry someone you like and want, and hope for the best, you mean?" asked Potter curiously.

"Sounds like what most people do," said Gaerwn, turning the last chair around and sitting backwards in it, facing the three of them. "Thanks for finding that portrait of my great-Uncle, my mum will love to protest when Da drags her to come see it."

They all chuckled, though Potter looked annoyed at the change of subject. Snape nodded his acknowledgement and said smoothly, "I am sure they will all find plenty to talk to him about, considering the prejudice you mentioned about your professional choice."

Draco snickered. "That's one way to put it," he said, getting a laugh from Gaerwn as well. "Were your parents madly in love?"

"Oh, possibly," said Gaerwn with a shrug. "They are now, anyway, at least the mad part. Keeps them happy, and that's what counts."

"Yes," said Potter thoughtfully. "I suppose it is."

* * *

Harry nibbled at his food and wondered if he'd made a fool of himself again. He was trying to form the words for another question when Lenis slithered up to the table, looking more unctuous than ever. "I believe I ought to be jealous," he said, leaning casually against the back of Malfoy's chair, "All the most handsome men at one table, and no room for me."

"And here I thought _I_ was supposed to be wooing _you_ with empty flattery," said Snape dryly.

Harry sniggered, and got kicked in the ankle by Malfoy. "I don't know," he said to Snape, glancing significantly at Gaerwn and Malfoy as well, "You've got that whole, how did Flourish put it, dark hero thing going on."

"Not to mention the implications of that nose," said Gaerwn with a decidedly dirty chuckle.

Lenis flushed; apparently this wasn't quite how he'd expected the conversation to go. "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said, his voice a bit less warm. "Severus, I wanted to compliment you on your choice of events. It's almost a shame the next few are dictated by custom."

It was Malfoy who spoke up this time. "There's still a bit of room for him to show his creativity within those restraints," he said, giving Snape a sly look. "The venue for the tea, for instance, and of course his gift to each of us."

"A mere token," said Snape modestly, and Harry thought he saw a flash of something move through Snape's normally unreadable eyes. "Though I do hope the first gift I gave you has been of some use?"

Lenis smiled, back on familiar ground. "Yes, very much so. Your expertise is such that the potion far outstrips what I'm used to."

"Quality of ingredients goes a long way as well," said Snape with a little smile. "I find that many of the current group will skimp, thinking that the client will never notice in a brew of that nature."

Harry was beginning to wonder what on earth Snape had made for him, and was about to give in and ask when Ms. Malkin came giggling over with Frannie in tow. "You simply must settle something for us," said Malkin with one of her annoying little titters, completely ignoring that Snape had obviously been in the middle of another conversation. "I bet Frannie a Sickle that you would put it in the marriage contract that your new spouse has to bear all the children, and she thinks you'd let them knock you up, if you end up with a man."

"I'm afraid that Ms. Frumple is correct. I would not ask of my husband what I am not willing to do myself," said Snape, his face utterly deadpan as though women asked him about his future plans to become pregnant all the time.

Harry swallowed, and a bit of juice went down the wrong pipe, starting him on a coughing fit as he tried to banish the mental images of Snape, heavy with child and displaying all his usual temper and the infamous mood swings of a mother-to-be as well.

Malfoy patted him on the back a bit more vigorously than necessary and added sweetly, "You know, in three-wizard marriages it is usual for each man to carry one child, so that there's no question who is heir to whom."

Harry shot him an evil glare, then gave in to his own curiosity and asked in a raspy voice, "How d'you get the kids out, anyway?"

Everyone looked shocked for a moment, then the girls twittered like nervous birds while Gaerwn tried very hard not to laugh. "Magic, Potter," said Malfoy with a roll of his eyes. "There is a spell to remove the child unharmed after nine months, followed by a potion which allows the body to reabsorb the unnatural organs."

"Ew," said Harry, feeling a bit green at the thought.

Snape laughed.

"I feel as though I've missed the merriment!" said Trimble cheerfully, wandering over from his moment with Dumbledore's portrait. "Delightful idea, Severus, I got some great business tips from Great-great-grand-uncle Mellifluous."

Snape nodded an acknowledgement. "I did attempt to borrow the Trumble portrait of your common ancestor, but they were most unwilling to part with her," he said.

Harry had to admire how smoothly Slytherin the statement was, implying to all of them that it had been great effort to get what portraits he could, and that perhaps there had been a more desirable choice that he had been simply unable to procure. "I'm quite happy with your choice for me, Severus," said Harry, managing to make it an empty, pleasant compliment suitable for the audience.

"Yes, Grandmother Amanita was a delight to speak with," said Malfoy, which prompted a wave of all of them thanking Snape.

Snape took the compliments with something like grace, though he was looking awfully smug by the end of it, not that Harry could blame him. "You are all very welcome," he said at last, raising his wineglass and then standing. "I don't believe a formal toast is necessary, but why don't you all try some of the excellent wine." He moved away from the table and the four standing followed, leaving Harry with his cooling plate, Malfoy, and Gaerwn.

"I'm going to go get something to eat, but save my seat," said Gaerwn with a wink.

Just Malfoy, then. Harry swallowed, feeling unaccountably nervous about being alone with him. "So, he has to give us tea and more gifts," said Harry, thinking back to the conversation with Lenis, "Is the next round something specific, like the dinner was?"

Malfoy nodded absently, watching the group ebb and flow around the buffet, though Snape was the real centre of attention. "Weekend in the country. He doesn't own a home so he'll be expected to rent out some sort of bed and breakfast for the five remaining and himself."

"That sounds like something out of a romance novel," said Harry, making a face. "Is there to be some sort of horrid ball or garden party as well?"

Malfoy laughed, turning to look at Harry. "I'm sure you'll survive. You can bring Hedwig and your nameless kneazle, anyway."

"Algernon," said Harry, taking a bite of one of the cheese-filled leaves and finding it still warm and pleasantly gooey inside.

"What?" asked Malfoy, looking at him as though he'd gone mad, or was possibly speaking in tongues.

"I named him. The kneazle, I mean. Algernon," said Harry with his mouth full.

Malfoy held the look a moment longer, then shrugged. "Hedwig and Algernon, then. If you tell Severus at your tea that you want to, he'll arrange for them to stay with you."

Harry swallowed the chewy mouthful with a bit of effort and said, "I dunno, what if Hedwig takes a liking to one of the stray owls? I'd hate to be responsible for everyone's wardrobes."

There didn't seem to be much Malfoy could say to that, so he turned his attention back to the group surrounding Snape, leaving Harry to eat in peace.


	4. Past to Future

Severus sat in the disconcertingly redecorated Headmistress' office and sipped his tea, amused to find that Minerva had not yet managed to wrangle out of Albus the secret to making everyone's perfect cup of tea. "I just wanted to thank you again for agreeing to loan me Albus' portrait. It has made a huge difference in the success of my Courtship."

"I saw the article," said Minerva, tapping this morning's _Prophet_ where it lay on her desk. "You're moving up in the world, second page."

"I do not believe anyone foresaw that both Potter and Malfoy would agree to allow me a second chance to court them," said Severus with a small, triumphant smile. "You certainly gave me good advice in that regard."

"Speaking of favours," said Minerva, taking a sip of her own tea and making a face, "I have one to ask of you."

"You know I am indebted to you more than I can possibly repay, and not just from these most recent kindnesses," said Severus wryly. He'd been expecting this since the invitation arrived with his morning owl.

"I have a bit of a house elf problem," she said, setting her cup aside with a sigh. "It seems that the elf that Potter freed from the Malfoys has taken a particular interest in me."

"Normally one would consider this a good thing," said Severus, eyebrow raised. He'd spoken to Draco about the elf, once Winky had left Hogwarts with Minerva's blessing to go to serve Draco, ecstatic to once again have a master and proper loyalties.

Minerva winced. "I'm afraid that Dobby is no normal house elf," she said, glancing around the room.

Severus followed her eyes, finding odd spots of disarray here and there where things had been rearranged according to some aesthetic that didn't quite work with the rest of the tidy room. "I can see that. Perhaps Albus got him into some bad habits?"

"From what I can tell, it was Potter, actually," she said, doing a small spell over her tea to remove the offending additives, leaving a dark, steaming brew in the cup. "The tea, for instance, is just how he likes it no matter who is being served."

"Ah," said Severus, mind racing. "Perhaps we can benefit each other, then," he said. "Call the elf."

"I knew I could count on you," she said, picking up a small bell in the shape of a Quidditch broom, the tiny Snitch inside tinkling merrily against the sides.

Severus sat back and smiled, waiting for Dobby to appear.

* * *

Draco sat curled in front of Severus' fire, the ribbon in the book of essays nearly at the end by now. "Should I be put out that Harry got an invitation to dine with you here, and I didn't?" he asked teasingly.

Severus looked up from where he'd been doing his accounts and said, "You have a standing invitation to dine with me here. I should think the occasion deserves somewhere a bit more special."

Draco flushed with pleasure; he hadn't really known if his welcome was truly that open until just now. "The bedroom, perhaps?" he teased. "It's nearly standard practice nowadays to try before you buy."

"And risk disappointing you before our wedding night?" replied Severus with equal humour, eyes glinting darkly.

"I was gratified to get first position, anyway," said Draco, dragging his mind out of Severus' trousers and back onto the subject at hand. "Harry's second, then Gaerwn, Trimble, and Frumple, right?"

"Correct, with Malkin and Lenis at the end. Lenis will think that I am saving the best for last, Malkin will be relieved to have an easy out, and the others shall be quite content, I think, to share the middle slots after our two celebrities," said Severus, setting his quill aside and stretching. "Is there a point to all of this? I have to be sure I can afford everyone's gifts and a weekend in the country without taking extra commissions."

"Not really, sorry, I... did you consider offering Trimble a potions contract for his gift? It's a bit unusual, but you could brew all his potions at cost for the duration of the Courtship, and then you wouldn't lose or gain," said Draco, fiddling with the book's ribbon. Mostly, he'd been feeling ignored, and wanting a bit of reassurance, not to mention fishing to find out what his own gift was, or what Severus had up his sleeve in regards to their tea. The invitation had asked Draco to meet Severus at a common Apparition point, and left him unendingly curious.

Severus paused. "That is an idea, though I'd have to do a bit more research before I did, lest I trap myself into doing nothing but his potions and no profit to show for it."

Draco chuckled. "I have no doubt whatsoever that you'll manage, they're not exactly hiding the fact that they're looking for a new supplier."

"True, true," said Severus. "Still, I have a number of social obligations between now and then which may prevent changing my plans so drastically."

"Ooh, this means you've already got my gift, and Harry's," said Draco; their tea was tomorrow, today being the single day of grace given to the Petitioner between the two portions of the second round of Courtship.

"And tomorrow you shall find out what yours is, and likely Harry's the day after," said Severus dryly, his tone carrying the same reprimand it had as a teacher when he'd caught Draco trying to win special favours he hadn't earned.

Draco pouted.

* * *

Draco had ceased pouting by the time he arrived at the coordinates in Severus' invitation, a nondescriptly picturesque Apparition point in some random English village. He smoothed his robes nervously, hating that he felt this way when Severus was supposed to be the one wooing him. He told himself what a catch he was, and that he could always console himself with seducing Harry or Gaerwn once all was said and done, but in reality he was starting to admit to himself that he'd never truly stopped wanting Severus since he was a boy. He'd just grown up about it a little more.

"I see Harry is not the only one of you with form-fitting robes," said Severus dryly, stepping out from under the shadow of a nearby tree. "I approve wholeheartedly."

Draco laughed. "I thought I'd see if I could convince you to revisit my bedroom idea," he teased, though in all honesty he was intrigued by Severus' refusal to give away any details of their tea.

"I have a different idea in mind," said Severus, stepping forward. "If I may?"

Draco gave him an accusatory look. "You'd intended to Apparate us somewhere else all along!"

"Of course," said Severus with a smile. He held out his hand, pulling Draco into a warm embrace when he took it. "I didn't want to spoil the surprise."

There was the sickening feeling of Apparition, and then they were in front of a place that Draco could have recognized in his sleep. "We're having tea at _Hogwarts_?" said Draco disbelievingly.

"The Headmistress has kindly allowed me to use the Slytherin common room, as classes are out for the summer, as well as loaned me the services of the Hogwarts house elves, who welcomed the chance to show off for two former residents of the castle," said Severus, tucking Draco's hand into the crook of his elbow. "Shall we?"

Draco looked up at Severus and felt a wave of longing; he'd never been back here, not since that night that they'd fled, and though he'd recovered some of his possessions through various channels, he'd always felt something was missing. "You really are a manipulative bastard," said Draco, going up on his toes to brush a soft kiss over Severus' cheek, then starting off on the long road up to the castle.

"There was much lost to us that night," said Severus quietly, taking the lead after a moment, "and I have always regretted that so much of your youth went with it."

Draco smiled softly and spent the rest of the walk in silence, collecting himself so he didn't end up acting like a big girl. "Will the Headmistress be joining us for tea?" he asked as they approached the doors, which swung wide just as Severus' boot touched the step.

"I'm afraid not," said McGonagall from the open doorway. "It's good to see you both, but I wouldn't intrude on your Courtship that way." She stepped back to allow them to enter. "The password is 'reconstruction' for the Slytherin dormitories, and 'moorlands' for my office. I expect you two will want to use my Floo, as the rest are closed for the summer." Draco was amused at the implied order to check in before they left, and say goodbye.

"Thank you, Minerva," said Severus with a little bow. He laid a hand over Draco's and smiled warmly down, an expression of sorrow sliding away behind his black eyes as if it had never tried to surface. "Shall we?"

Draco swallowed, then nodded. "Thank you for allowing this, Headmistress," he said, bowing to McGonagall as well.

"You're both quite welcome," she said with a smile, turning to the stone gargoyle outside her office. "Moorlands. I'll see you when it's time to go!"

The gargoyle moved aside and she was gone before Draco could think of a rejoinder, so he let Severus lead him through familiar halls and back into the haunts of his youth. "How did you... I mean..."

"The opportunity to visit that came with borrowing Albus' portrait meant enough to me that it seemed a luxury I ought to share," said Severus, answering the question Draco hadn't known how to ask.

"If you don't watch out, I'll start to think you really like me," said Draco as they rounded a corner to see a familiar blank wall of stone. "Reconstruction!"

A stone door hidden in the wall slid open, and Draco had to fight down what was sure to be one of many bouts of nostalgia. Severus gestured that Draco should precede him, and it was as if no time at all had passed, at least at first. After a moment he noticed that two of the portraits had been replaced, as well as the rug in the corner with the mysterious stain that had driven the house elves spare. He swallowed the first dozen things that came to mind, turning to see the same hungry expression on Severus' face that he was sure graced his own. "Was it like this when you were a student?" he asked.

"There are differences," said Severus, a hand coming to rest on Draco's shoulder, "but they aren't so much, compared to the rest."

Draco smiled softly. "No," he said, "I suppose they're not."

"I was here last week, visiting Minerva to tell her how the gallery showing went," said Severus, guiding Draco to the chairs by the fire, spots reserved for the very best of the seventh years, in Draco's day. "It was then that I was given an opportunity to acquire your gift," he said, gesturing. In one of the chairs sat a silver gift box with a green snake ribbon twining around it restlessly.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," said Draco, touching the ribbon gently. It sensed that this was true and fell away, coiling itself in the chair, and Draco lifted the lid away from the box and peered inside curiously.

He gasped, all thoughts of his own image gone as he lifted the battered toy out of its nest of green paper. The plush dragon had ceased moving years ago, though it had still smoked up through his third year, and one of the eyes had gone missing and never been replaced, though the other glittered just as black as ever. There was a subtle preservation charm on it, but it was otherwise just as it had been when he'd hidden it away at the start of term his sixth year, just as he had at the start of term every year since he'd discovered the magical cubby in his first.

"It was all of yours I was able to recover; the rest of your hiding places were found, but this one thing was overlooked," said Severus softly, putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. "It isn't much, but I felt it was time you remembered that there was more to your life than dark or light, and at one time you were a boy who loved his father very much."

Draco blinked stinging eyes and turned to Severus, holding the squashy thing to his chest despite the years of dirt still accumulated on the surface. "I forgot that you were there when he gave it to me," said Draco quietly, referring to one of Severus' few visits to the Manor. It hadn't done for a Malfoy to be seen with a mere school teacher too often, but on that day Draco had learned his colours and been rewarded with the green dragon, who he had promptly named Lucius Vert and dragged around by its tail for years afterward.

Severus pulled Draco into his arms and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, a gesture Lucius had set aside when Draco was six. "We will let the love of our children be first before all other ambitions," said Severus, a serious vow to make here in the heart of wizarding ambition.

Draco held on and just barely managed to pull himself together, then held on some more for the simple joy of being close to Severus. After many minutes had passed, Severus ran gentle fingers down his cheek and said, "I believe there is tea to be had, if you're able?"

Draco smiled up at him, then stole a proper kiss just because he could. "Now I'm ready," he said impishly, though he didn't let go of Severus just yet.

There was, after all, plenty of time.

* * *

Harry Flooed to Snape's house wearing the colour-changing robes, which Draco had declared formal enough for afternoon tea. They proved their worth as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace, turning a sooty black until Harry had a chance to do the simple spell he'd finally learned to clean himself off, then lightening slowly to a soft chocolate brown that went well with Snape's parlour.

The floors were wood, dark with age and matching the mouldings and bookshelves, even the furniture, all in complex shades of brown. There were rugs scattered about the room, made of braided rags and looking nearly as old as the flooring, all colour lost to time until they were a warm, gently mottled grey. The chairs were upholstered in brown leather studded with brass rivets, and the bookshelves were a comparative riot of colour, filled with neat rows of books in all shapes and sizes. Sunlight streamed in from windows along one wall, muted slightly by the sheer curtains fluttering in the summer breeze.

Snape had a desk in one corner, cleared of all papers and neat as a pin, and the man himself emerged from one of the shadowed doorways before Harry could get more than these impressions. Harry's attention was drawn to Snape, and their surroundings became far less important as Snape smiled in a way that, were it not utterly ridiculous, he might even have called shy. "Welcome to my home, Po- Harry."

Harry grinned, inordinately pleased to find that their first-name basis wasn't only for show after all. "Thank you, Severus. It's really nice in here, very warm," he said, stepping forward though he honestly had no idea what the proper greeting might be. "Inviting."

Snape looked just as awkward as Harry felt for a moment, then extended his hand for Harry to shake. "Not everywhere can be a dungeon," said Snape, and it took Harry a moment to realize he was joking.

Harry shook, then spread his hands wide to show they were empty. "I would have brought a guesting-gift, but Malfoy said it's not done. I guess you'll just have to wait until the end of the Courtship."

"And by then," said Snape with a wry quirk to his lips, "all this could be yours."

Harry laughed as he hoped he was meant to. "Well, in that case, oughtn't you give me the grand tour?"

Snape looked taken aback for a moment, then he shrugged and smiled. "If you're interested, yes, though in all honesty if we were to be married, I'd expect we'd want to find somewhere larger."

"For the, er, kids," said Harry, swallowing. Though a part of him was fascinated by the idea of family and fatherhood, a much larger part was still appalled by the idea of becoming pregnant, not to mention all the difficulties that being a parent would entail after the birth.

"Well, you will see. This is very much a bachelor's home at this point," said Snape, gesturing for Harry to precede him back through the doorway he'd emerged from.

The door led to a dim hallway, the dark floor polished and shining in what light there was from the sconces on either leaf-patterned wall. "The water closet is here," he said, opening the first door on the left to reveal a truly cupboard-sized facility, scrupulously clean but otherwise wholly uninviting. He opened the next to reveal an even darker wooden staircase, narrow and steep and leading up to the second storey. "We'll go there next," he explained, leading Harry further down the hall.

"All right," said Harry, curious. There were two doors at the end of the hall, on either side. "That's the downstairs," said Snape, gesturing to the left even as he opened the right. "My potions lab is there, so I will spare you that."

Harry chuckled. "I don't know, you might be surprised at what I'm interested in, now that I've no one to yell at me about the perfect consistency of ground beetle eyes," he said, though truthfully he'd always been more interested in spells and magic artefacts than potions.

"This is the kitchen," said Snape, his voice holding every ounce of doubt he was obviously having to work very hard not to speak. "I do not have a dining room, so most meals are eaten here, though we will take tea in the parlour."

"Better than me, I don't even have a kitchen table," said Harry with a wry chuckle, thinking of the tiny kitchen of his flat. He'd magically expanded the bedroom closet to be Hedwig's home, hence his use of a wardrobe, but otherwise his flat was cramped and nearly barren of comforts.

"One gains more than wisdom as one ages, and furniture is no exception," said Snape wryly.

Harry laughed and looked properly around the small room, noting the neat block of knives, spotless counters, jars of labelled foodstuffs and even a bowl of fresh fruit. There was a suspiciously Muggle-looking stove and oven, plus a wide fireplace with a cauldron hanging to one side. The kitchen table reminded him sharply of the Weasleys, heavy and scarred but still with years of use left on it, and Harry had to smile when he realized the bowl of floating roses in the centre were likely an ingredient and not a decoration. "For me?" he said teasingly, walking over to caress one silky petal.

Snape got a slightly shifty look and said, "If you like," in such an offhand way that Harry revised his assumption.

Harry grinned. "I think they're lovely," he said, lifting one up to smell. The scent was sweet and delicate, but it was the colour that was likely the reason Snape had chosen them, fading from innocent white in the centre to blood red at the edges of the petals.

Snape coughed. "Yes, well, it was suggested the room needed something that wasn't entirely utilitarian."

Harry attached the rose to his lapel, and the robes turned a deep red that faded abruptly to white at his cuffs, collar and hem. "I expect they'll end up in a potion eventually, so I'll just rescue this one if you don't mind."

Snape didn't seem to know what to say to that, so instead he turned on his heel and led Harry back out into the hallway. "The upstairs is not generally suitable for guests, though it has been cleaned," warned Snape, which only made Harry more curious.

"Lead the way, then," said Harry with a gesture, smile widening when Snape's eyes flicked to the rose and back, as though trying to puzzle out just why Harry would want the thing in the first place.

He turned and went up the stairs, a pair of lamps at the top lighting themselves as Snape's foot hit the first step. "Have you considered what sort of a life you might want, if your feet ever stop wandering?" he asked, as casual as he could be with a question so obviously planned.

Harry's smile faded just a bit, and he sighed. "Not really, I mean... I'd like to have a family, I guess, and see my friends more. Live somewhere permanent, with a proper owlery for Hedwig and, I dunno. A job of some sort, so I don't go spare."

They got to the top of the stairs to reveal that the upper floor was mostly one big room, with a giant curtained bed in one corner and the rest of the space taken up with an extremely comfortable-looking chaise lounge in front of the fireplace, and a jumble of boxes nearly hiding the bookshelves along one wall. There was a wide window that didn't seem to look out over London at all, and an open door leading into a spacious bathroom that Harry could see even from there had been outfitted with a smaller version of the Prefect's bath, a low tub sunk impossibly into the floor with a dozen silver spouts shaped like snakes.

"I am afraid here is where you see how unsuitable I am for raising a child," said Snape, a painful honesty in his voice that made Harry's chest ache.

"Just because you don't have a bedroom all done up in yellow duckies doesn't mean you wouldn't love your child," said Harry, knowing that this was at the crux of things for him, if not for Snape. "You're making yourself a better life with this Courtship, and maybe you'll even come to love your husband or wife someday," he said, the last sounding a lot more wistful than Harry had intended.

Snape laughed bitterly, but seemed to take heart from Harry's statement anyway. "I suppose it is too much to hope for that they should love me back," he said darkly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he said, stepping up to Snape and laying his hand on one thin arm. "Draco already loves you in his way, and you've shown us all that there's more to you than your reputation or your cover as a spy."

Snape looked at Harry long enough that Harry was worried he'd put his foot in it for real this time and was about to be summarily kicked out. "I believe," said Snape softly, one hand coming up to touch Harry's cheek gently, "that that is the kindest thing anyone has said to me in years."

"I think it's past time you had a bit of kindness in your life," said Harry, then surprised them both by going on his tiptoes and kissing Snape softly, not the toe-curling kiss of earlier but a soft brush of his lips that held an entirely different sort of promise.

There was a moment of stillness as Harry lowered himself, then Snape blinked and it was over. "I think it's time for tea," said Snape wryly, though he couldn't seem to stop himself from brushing Harry's fringe back from his eyes with long, warm fingers. "Shall we?"

"Let's," said Harry, with a smile that he hoped conveyed his intention not to let the subject drop entirely. He glanced at the bed one last time as they left, wondering what it might be like to spend the afternoon in it with Snape, trying out the goods. Still, he'd held onto his virginity this long, he might as well keep saving himself, whether for marriage or something else entirely.

They went downstairs in comfortable silence, Harry trying to think of a better answer to Snape's question while Snape was lost in his own, unfathomable thoughts. Harry was surprised to see there was a tea all laid out, finger sandwiches and scones, pasties and biscuits and even a small cake, with a steaming pot of tea at the centre of it all. "Wow, how'd you manage this?" he asked, sitting on one end of the sofa and hoping Snape might choose to share it with him rather than take one of the two chairs closer to the fire.

"The answer to that," said Snape with a smirk, "is also your gift. Dobby!"

The familiar house elf popped in, wearing what was obviously a Snape-mandated uniform, a neat pair of black trousers and a crisp white shirt with a lightning bolt on the breast pocket, though even fear of Snape hadn't kept him from wearing brightly-coloured, mismatched socks. "Are those the socks we gave you back in school?" blurted Harry, the first thing that came to mind.

Dobby's grin grew wide and watery and he said fawningly, "Dobby is so happy that Harry Potter is remembering!"

Harry looked from Snape, now sitting next to Harry and looking insufferably smug, to Dobby, who seemed in danger of bursting from sheer joy, and back again. "Dobby," he asked suspiciously, "are you still working at Hogwarts?"

"Dobby is not!" said the elf excitedly. "Dobby is working for Harry Potter now, sir, and if Dobby is very good Professor Snape is thinking Harry Potter might take him as a proper elf again!" Dobby looked shiftily left and right, then said softly, "Dobby is growing a bit tired of freedom."

"Oh, Dobby," said Harry, though he manfully resisted any stray urge to hug the creature. "I'd love to have you as a proper elf, though I don't have a proper household yet, just a grotty old flat."

"Harry Potter is making Dobby very happy!" said Dobby, and he jumped up and down three times and disappeared.

"Er, I hope I haven't sent him away before he can do your dishes," said Harry, aware of but unable to stop the goofy grin on his face.

"I am sure I can manage either way," said Snape placidly. He handed Harry a cup of tea, which Harry was somehow unsurprised to find had been made just the way he liked it.

"Thank you," said Harry, taking a sip and finding it exquisite, a much finer quality of tea than he normally bought for himself. "So," he asked, nodding toward the spread, "did you buy more of those pasties from the restaurant, or learn to make them yourself?"

Snape smiled. "I bought them from the bakery that supplied the restaurant," he said, "and at a much greater discount. I find Courting to be a very expensive proposition."

Harry laughed as he seemed to be expected to, but there was a doubt gnawing at him. "You'll be all right once it's over, though, I mean... even Trimble seems well off enough that it won't matter if you're not flush."

"I am afraid that will very much be the case," said Snape, using his wand to load up two plates with food and floating them in front of them both, then scooting just a touch closer on the couch. "Though your gift has suddenly become less of a burden, not that a house elf's salary was much to begin with."

Harry shook his head, smiling fondly. "I remember when he had to argue D- the Headmaster down from a decent wage to something a house elf could accept." Harry took a bite of one of the pasties, washing it down with more of the excellent tea before adding, "I forgive you, you know. I didn't know if I could, but if Dumbledore could, then I can."

Snape blinked once, twice, and then shook his head. "That is almost more surprising than the kiss," he said quietly, then sipped his tea with great dignity, expression unreadable.

"If you forgive yourself, then all the people that matter will have done so," said Harry with an ironic little smile. "I'm sure you were just waiting with bated breath for my approval, after all."

Snape snorted, and they were back on familiar ground. "Indeed, Harry, it has been my devout wish for some time to have you vet all my prior bad acts as necessities of war."

It was Harry's turn to snort. "Yeah, right. We both know you yelled at Neville because you loved it."

They both laughed, though it held that edge that said Harry's words had cut too close to the truth and they were on very thin ice. They ate in silence for a while, nothing more than comments on the food or offers of a refill breaking the peace, until Harry felt he'd had a good meal and then some. "So, what else is supposed to happen? Malfoy wouldn't say."

"I am surprised you haven't been invited to use his first name," said Snape, obviously avoiding the question.

"Habit, I suppose. I only call you Severus because I keep thinking of how it would have made you cringe, back when I was the bane of your existence."

Snape shot Harry a darkly ironic look. "I believe you overestimate your position among the ranks of those who made my life difficult, but I do agree it would have caused all sorts of difficulty, back then."

"My little firstie voice piping up, 'Severus, what are the properties of henbane?' and you not being allowed to kill me and all," said Harry, imitating the higher tones of a boy of eleven.

"It is a good thing I wasn't planning on seducing you," said Snape, "as the thought of you at eleven is enough to put any man off."

Harry laughed, blushing madly. "Shouldn't I be the protesting maiden, anyway?"

"These days, it is often expected that a certain amount of exploration will take place between the Petitioner and those he Courts. A display of prowess, if you will," said Snape teasingly.

"As if I could tell the difference," said Harry with a laugh. "Ew, does this mean you have to bed Lenis?"

"As I have received no indication that I will be required to keep him in the next round, likely not. The rest of my teas are in more public locales, and the bed-hopping is expected to occur mainly during our weekend in the country," said Snape dryly.

Harry felt a bit scandalized, but he had to admit it was an intelligent solution in an era where Harry was likely the only virgin among the Courted, and considered odd for it even at the tender age of twenty-five. "So you'll, er, service everyone then? What if I, I mean..."

"It is not mandatory. I will allow those who wish to preview my bedroom skills to invite me into their rooms, and leave those who are inexperienced or less interested to sleep in peace," he said, then spoiled the gentleness of his explanation by adding, "Your virtue can remain intact until your wedding night."

Harry flushed, though he didn't argue the point. "I wonder if Malfoy will take the opportunity?"

Snape shrugged. "He visits me frequently these days, so if he wants to sample the goods, as it were, he need not wait until the arranged time for such things."

Harry was getting used to the flashes of envy that such revelations brought, so he made a joke of it in case it showed too much on his face. "Should I be jealous?" he asked, fluttering his eyelashes.

"Only if you wish to eat steak and kidney pie in my kitchen or raid my library whilst I work on the endless rounds of correspondence dictated by the Courtship," said Snape dryly.

Harry grinned. "Well, I have learned to read, so perhaps I'll have to wheedle an invitation one of these days, or just tag along with Malfoy. You know you want us both in that big bed of yours, anyway," he said teasingly, trying to ignore the flare of heat that mental image sent to his groin.

"I believe you would prove too much to handle," said Snape dryly, though Harry hadn't missed the flash of interest in Snape's eyes.

"So, what is it that we still have to do that you're avoiding?" Harry asked, figuring Snape couldn't ignore such a challenge.

Snape smiled wryly and nodded his head. "I must ask if you intend to allow me to continue my suit, and then there will be nothing left to keep you here."

Harry smiled and scooted just a little closer to Snape, setting his cup on the floating saucer. "I'll just have to withhold my answer until you're tired of my company, then," he said with a little wink.

"I thought you didn't want to be seduced," said Snape, though he, too, leaned in a touch closer. "If you continue to look so delectable, I shall be forced to take another taste."

Harry swallowed. "Would you be able to stop at a taste?" he asked, his voice far too breathy and his mind replaying all the ribald jokes that Gaerwn had made about Snape and his skills.

"We shall see," said Snape hoarsely, and his lips descended onto Harry's. This kiss took Harry's inexperience and turned it into an asset, Snape leading Harry through each step from the first gentle brush to the passionate press of lips that eventually parted to allow their tongues to tangle. Snape tasted a little bit of tea and cream cake, but mostly Harry was thinking of how warm his mouth was, and how wet.

When they broke apart, Harry's lap had an obvious tent in it, and it took all of Harry's willpower not to look down to see if anything could be seen in the darkness of Snape's many-layered black robes. "That was a really good taste," said Harry with an undignified amount of enthusiasm. He attempted to marshal his mental arguments against asking Snape to see the bed from a much closer vantage, but Snape beat him to the punch.

"If you stay much longer, I will not be able to respect your wishes," said Snape, his voice quite hoarse and mouth looking bruised and red from the kiss, lips still damp and inviting. "Harry Potter, will you allow me to continue Courting you for the purpose of marriage and the raising of our heirs?" he asked formally, though he didn't lean entirely out of kissing range.

"I will if you kiss me one more time before sending me home," said Harry recklessly, driven by the thrumming desire in his blood.

Snape looked as though he might have groaned, if he allowed himself such foolish things, and one hand came up to cup Harry's cheek. "I would almost marry you for this," he whispered instead, a compliment that Harry took with a grain of salt, considering his own thoughts along those lines and their origin from a part of his anatomy rather lower than his brain, or heart.

"I'd almost let you," said Harry, brushing his lips over Snape's and feeling them catch against the moist skin.

Snape let out a soft sigh and drew Harry close in the circle of his arms and kissed him again properly. This kiss was shorter than the previous one, skipping the teasing preliminaries for a deeper and more thorough exploration of the myriad possibilities of tongues. Harry attempted to show what a good student he'd become, and got a slight nibble that he chose to take as approval given the lovely sensations it sent down his spine.

This time it was Harry who pulled back, more to save himself the embarrassment of coming in his pants than any desire to stop. "If you do the rest as good as you kiss," said Harry, nipping once at Snape's jaw just because he could, "then I'd be a fool not to marry you."

"Unfortunately for us," said Snape, pressing an oddly affectionate kiss to Harry's hair, "you have always been a bit foolish."

Harry laughed, letting some of the desire dissipate along with the other tensions. "I suppose that's true," he said, brushing his fingers over Snape's cheek and moving back just enough that he no longer felt quite so enveloped in Snape's warmth. "You always worked so hard to save me from my own idiocy, though, so I'll count on you this time as well."

Snape laughed at that, and the moment broke completely. "One kiss, one more round of Courting, as promised," said Snape teasingly. "Your elf has likely found your flat and begun terrorising the dust bunnies in your absence, so you'd best go before he charms your pants to sound the alarm if I compromise your virtue overmuch."

"Yes, Severus," said Harry with a singsong lilt to his voice. He kissed the tip of Snape's nose, something he'd wanted to do for ages, then got up and scooted swiftly over to the fire and out of arms' reach. "I'll expect that invitation for library raiding and kidney pie," he added, taking a handful of powder from the urn on the mantle.

"Only if you promise your owl won't seduce mine into early fatherhood," said Snape, looking flushed and kissable and ever so slightly mussed where he sat on the inviting expanse of leather couch.

"If she does, I'll just have to marry you and keep it in the family," said Harry impishly. He threw the powder and Flooed home, figuring a better exit line wasn't likely to present itself in his lifetime.

When he got there, the place already looked brighter in some indefinable way. "Dobby?" he called out tentatively.

"Dobby is being here in Harry Potter's home, Master Harry Potter, sir!" said Dobby, popping into visibility with an expression of utter delight. "Harry Potter is having very few things, but Dobby is taking good care of the things he has."

"That's wonderful, Dobby," said Harry. He tried to think if he had anything dangerous, precious or otherwise vulnerable to house elf tampering, but he left the dangerous stuff at the office, and his keepsakes were all safely packed away in a box at the bottom of his wardrobe. "There's a box in my wardrobe, leave that alone other than dusting, and you have free rein to clean anything else you like," he said. "Erm, do house elves need grocery money?"

Dobby giggled in a disconcertingly maniacal way. "Now that Dobby is having a proper Master again, shops will be always allowing Dobby to put purchases on credit, when Dobby cannot be conjuring what he needs."

Harry worked his way through Dobby's circuitous language and nodded. "That's great. Consult me before you buy any furniture or redecorate, but otherwise I'm sure you know what to do."

Dobby giggled again and bowed, then vanished. It wasn't until he disappeared that Harry realised Dobby was wearing Harry's one and only dish towel, the suit from Snape gone entirely. "Er, Dobby, did you promise to help Snape clean up after tea?" he asked the empty air, feeling like an idiot.

Dobby reappeared. "Dobby did! Dobby will be going to Severus Snape's straightaway once Master's house is being cleaned."

Harry chuckled. "Unless you've left things soaking in the tub, I think my flat can wait. You go help Severus and I'll, er, have a bath," said Harry. He hadn't considered the implications of his own increasing sexual frustration in terms of having a house elf around all the time.

"Yes, Harry Potter, Master, sir," said Dobby, clearly dubious. "Dobby is being back cleaning very soon!"

Fortunately for Harry, he didn't think it would take him very long to find relief, after those two glorious kisses. He snorted with amusement and headed to the bathroom, thinking of how his fifteen-year-old self would have reacted to the idea of having a wank over Snape. Of course, a decade ago he'd no idea the man was so skilled. He ran the bath and pondered other uses for the tongue that could be so wicked when cutting him down to size, for those fingers that had shown him a hundred potions, for the prick Harry had just glimpsed when Snape had shifted his hips as the fire flared and carried Harry away.

It definitely wouldn't take long.


	5. Days of Rest

By the end of the week, Severus was exhausted. Draco and Harry had been by far the most draining emotionally, but all three of the last teas had taken their toll on his temper, though happily every single candidate had indicated a willingness to allow him to continue Courting them. Even Lenis had engaged him in a long discussion on the pros and cons of nannies and home schooling, a discussion which helped in alleviating any remaining doubts that Severus had about eliminating the odious little twit from the running.

He was reclining upstairs on his decadently comfortable chaise and studiously avoiding the stack of cards needing to be sent when he heard the faint sound of the fire flaring. "Severus, are you here?" called Draco's welcome voice.

"I'm in the bedroom, and no, you may not seduce me," said Severus, though truly at this point he was only refusing because he was enjoying the novelty of being chased, and wanted to continue it awhile longer.

"After you've been out with Lenis? He might have rubbed off," said Draco, coming up the stairs. "Have you bathed?"

Severus laughed, relaxing by degrees. "I have not, but I shall once you've explained yourself," he said. He'd been thinking of it, but the bathroom had seemed so very far away just then.

"Well, I know you're likely heartily tired of company after a week of it, so I brought you a treat and then I'll be off to have dinner with two of my fellow hopefuls," said Draco teasingly. He produced a small pastry box from behind his back and opened it with a flourish. "Behold, I bring eclairs."

"Tempting me with your cream filling?" said Severus, lifting out one of the phallic pastries carefully.

"Whatever works," said Draco with a leer. He set the box to floating in front of Severus, then said, "Accio plate. Accio napkin," catching the results with the same effortless grace that had made him a good Seeker, back when he'd had time for such frivolities as Quidditch.

Severus took a bite, eyelids drooping in pleasure as the thick cream burst over his tongue, the dark chocolate on top melting slowly in his mouth and all of it accompanied by the lightest pastry he'd ever eaten. He chewed and swallowed slowly, savouring it, then said, "I suppose I should thank you."

"You should, but I'll take a kiss instead," said Draco teasingly, presenting his face to Severus.

"Two sweets in one visit," said Severus, then he pressed his mouth to Draco's obligingly, sharing the tastes of chocolate and cream and the warmth of affection that had been growing within him for Draco for years now. "Mmm, delicious."

"Yes," said Draco, standing and stretching languidly, obviously displaying just how much he'd enjoyed the kiss. "I'll go now, to prevent bath-time ravishment, but I'll be back tomorrow to help with all those tedious letters."

"Bring more eclairs," said Severus teasingly, taking another bite.

"I'd offer to coat myself in chocolate," said Draco with a wink, "but I'd hate for you to bite down at the wrong moment."

"Get out of here, you perverse brat," said Severus with a laugh, putting the remains of his treat on the conveniently floating plate and settling both firmly on his chest. "I have pastries to enjoy."

"I'll go ply my charms elsewhere, then," said Draco, which didn't stop him from sashaying as he walked, a movement that put him to definite advantage. Severus took another bite of his sweet and contemplated the merits of being chased versus being caught.

* * *

"He was tired, but in otherwise good spirits," said Draco by way of greeting, and Harry flushed and chuckled, swallowing his irrational jealousy.

"I take it Severus enjoyed the eclairs?" asked Harry, tucking his arm in Draco's elbow automatically, though he knew where most of the parlours were hidden in the mansion after a month of thrice-weekly teas. "Did he enjoy anything else?"

"Only a kiss," said Draco demurely. "I keep trying for more, but..."

Harry laughed more genuinely this time. "Perhaps if I continue to refuse to be seducible, he'll come across for you instead," he teased, though truthfully Snape hadn't actually tried so much as brought the subject up in idle conversation and allowed Harry to set his own boundaries. For all Harry knew, Snape had been relieved not to have to service at least one of his potential future spouses.

"Watch it, or I might get jealous," said Draco, brushing his nose through the hair at Harry's temple and then whispering, "Though if you let me watch, I'd forgive you both."

Harry's wistfulness was swept away by outrage and he turned bright red and laughed, giving Draco a shove and taking back his arm. "I'd like my first time to be a private affair conducted with love," he said with mock dignity, as soon as he got the giggles to subside.

Draco snorted and led him into what Harry privately thought of as the Halloween Parlour, a room done in rust, orange, brown, black and gold, with a distinct theme of pumpkins and even its own ghost, who was at this moment discussing something with Gaerwn.

"Harry, good to see you!" said Gaerwn, with the air of a man rescued from one of Binns' more boring lectures.

Harry took pity on him and stepped forward. "Gaerwn, I trust you're doing well? And Mrs. Malfoy, you're looking lovely tonight. Practically opaque."

The ghost fluttered her fan and gave a little curtsey, then turned back to Gaerwn. "I see the live company has arrived, so I'll take my leave. There's bridge tonight, ghosts versus portraits, and I want to be on my game."

"Of course. Thank you for keeping me company," said Gaerwen, giving a little bow. She turned and floated off, and he flopped back in his chair with a sigh. "Are all your ancestors that boring?"

"Most of them," said Draco unrepentantly. "Now that we're all here, you can show me your gift!"

Harry settled onto the loveseat facing Gaerwn; all the furniture was orange cut velvet with a pattern of pumpkins, and it caught and tugged on the velvet of his robes, making him shift and fidget until he could get comfortable. "Show us," encouraged Harry. He hadn't brought Dobby, but he felt an explanation would do in his case.

Gaerwn flushed a little and reached into his pocket. "Now, you have to understand that I collected certain memorabilia before I ever met you, and I know you held onto yours so this was the closest he could get to a real piece of the tournament, and it likely cost him a pretty pile of Galleons," he said, torn between looking Harry in the eye significantly and having his gaze slide guiltily away.

"It's all right, Gaerwn, I promise not to make fun," said Harry.

That seemed to be the right thing, because Gaerwn pulled his hand out and uncurled it to reveal a model that Harry had seen only once, the tiny, animated Common Welsh Green that Fleur had pulled from the velvet bag, the number 2 still hanging from its neck. It stamped and blew smoke, then curled up in a ball and glared balefully, an activity that Harry's own model of a Hungarian Horntail spent far too little time at. Harry had lost a couple of pairs of socks before he'd bought a display case for the thing, using the shredded garments to line it.

"Wow, she sold hers?" said Harry, which seemed a stupid thing to say. "I remember being jealous that she pulled the quietest of the lot."

Gaerwn shrugged. "Snape said he got it through a legitimate dealer. Maybe she cleaned out her attic?"

Harry chuckled. "I suppose it makes sense. I don't have a lot of stuff, period, so it's not hard to make room for mine. You should see it sometime."

Gaerwn turned slightly pink and tucked the tiny dragon back in his pocket. "I looked at it when we were at your place before the gallery, actually, since it was on the mantel and all."

"Oh, right!" said Harry, grinning to show he wasn't upset. "I forget you've been by the flat. It's loads better now, though, since Snape got me a house elf."

"Really?" said Draco, his voice holding a note of disbelief.

Harry anticipated his undoubtedly politely worded question and said, "Apparently Dobby's been pining for me up at Hogwarts, so now I have my very own house elf, though no house to speak of yet."

Much to Harry's relief, Draco laughed. "So you end up with my old elf, and I get Crouch's. The world's a strange place."

"At least they're both happier now," said Harry. Harry's tendency to leave his dirty dishes and laundry scattered about the apartment sent Dobby into fits of ecstasy, and Harry had even let himself be talked into ordering some proper furniture for his flat, so it looked a lot more like someone actually lived there. "You guys should come to my place for tea next time, actually, he'll be thrilled to have people to cook for."

"We should," agreed Gaerwn. As if of one mind, he and Harry both turned to look at Malfoy. "So, what about you?"

Harry's curiosity was further piqued when Draco reacted to the question by blushing. "It's, er, sort of personal, I mean, not sexual or anything, but..."

Harry was so surprised to see Draco flustered about anything that he couldn't formulate a response, but Gaerwn stepped in and saved them all some face. "It's all right," he said, reaching out to lay one of his big hands over Draco's knee. "I know you've known him a long time, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to."

"It was... he returned something I thought I'd lost, from my childhood," said Draco, and though Harry was dying of curiosity, even he had enough tact to let the matter drop.

Instead, he looked over at the table and asked impishly, "Do you have eclairs for us, or is Snape the only lucky one?"


	6. Test Flights

Gaerwn was practically bouncing around the flat while they waited for Harry to finish changing. They'd decided to combine lunch at Harry's with their afternoon visit to the Kestrels, and Draco had graciously allowed Harry to change into some of his work clothes rather than try to fly in robes, assuming they'd be allowed in the air with the team.

"I'm going to be the most popular guy on the team after this," said Gaerwn for the fifth or sixth time.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, you got both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy to visit, and Harry's even promised to talk to your Seeker," he said in a teasing singsong.

"Not that I have anything useful to say," said Harry, emerging from his room wearing a form-fitting pair of Muggle jeans and a black t-shirt emblazoned with a phrase in Japanese.

Draco took one look at it and laughed. "Are you sure you want to wear that while you're being Courted?"

Harry looked down at his chest, brow furrowed. "Er, d'you know what it says?" he asked, plucking at the offending characters. "They told me in the shop, but I can't remember."

Draco laughed harder, imagining the wicked shop girl telling him it was something innocuous. "It says you're looking for a Japanese boyfriend," said Draco, shaking his head.

Gaerwn laughed at that as well, while Harry blushed. "Best change, then. Hiro was beside himself when I told him you were visiting, if he got a look at that you'd have to Petrify him to keep him from following you home."

"You're just saying that so he'll take his shirt off again," said Draco; the wiry little Seeker of the Kestrels was well-known for both his stoicism and his complete devotion to his fiery Irish wife.

"I think I'm probably safe, but I'll change. Er, again." Harry turned to go back into his room, looking defeated.

"I think this time you have to let us watch so we don't go through this a third time," said Draco, getting up to follow with Gaerwn on his heels. He whistled when they made it into the bedroom, impressed at the difference one little elf had made on Harry's lifestyle.

The dorm-sized bed had been replaced with a wide four-poster of a lovely cherry wood that matched the wardrobe, which Dobby had deftly repaired of Hedwig's battering. The old red-and-gold counterpane was nowhere to be seen, and instead a beautiful quilt covered the bed, the design an abstract sunset that seemed almost to glow. There was a nightstand with a lovely candelabra on it, as well as a built-in set of grooves for a wand or two, and there was even a Snitch fluttering in a glass dome on one corner. There was a dresser with an orderly scattering of personal items atop it, and the window had real curtains of heavy red-brown velvet for privacy. Hedwig's retreat, the converted closet, had been re-furnished as well, with an interesting combination of wood and old robes that gave Hedwig plenty of places to perch, sleep, eat or even mate, should she manage to woo her owl.

"Nice!" said Gaerwn, sitting on the bed with a little bounce. "This is definitely a bedroom a man could get laid in," he added with a teasing leer.

"A theory that will never be tested at this rate," said Harry with a little moue of disgust. He stripped off his shirt, which got both Gaerwn and Draco's attention immediately, revealing a body toned by an active life, his chest wiry and sun-bronzed with a few wisps of hair, mostly around the small pink nipples that Draco realized he was staring at rather hungrily.

Draco forced himself to snort and say, "I think you'd find you could test it out right now if you really put your mind to it."

Gaerwn's leer turned speculative. "Now that's an idea worth missing practice for," he said, licking his lips in a very intriguing way.

Harry shook his head. "Don't be an arse, someone would find out and then where would Snape be?"

"Spoilsport," said Draco with mock petulance to hide his very real disappointment. "Anyway, let's see what else you have." He sauntered over and went poking through Harry's shirts until he found another black one, this time with the words, "Got milk?" emblazoned across the chest.

Harry laughed, but put it on. "It's a Muggle thing, hopefully no one will ask," he explained, despite the fact that Draco hadn't asked.

"I thought it was a gay thing," said Gaerwn teasingly. "I've got some lovely nutritious milk right here," he added, grabbing his cock and bollocks in an ages-old rude gesture.

Harry blushed predictably. "I'll pass, thanks," he said, sticking out his tongue in an impressively juvenile manner.

"Perhaps you two ought to run off together and leave proper marriage to the adults," said Draco sarcastically. "Come on, then, we're going to be late as it is."

"Got your brooms?" asked Gaerwn unnecessarily, all thoughts of sex gone in the face of his childlike joy at sharing his new friends with his old ones.

"They're by the door and you know it," said Harry, still looking sulky about his wardrobe changes.

Draco slung an arm around his waist, slipping his fingers up under the hem of the shirt to tease one along the smooth skin above his trousers. "Just think of it as protecting your image," he said teasingly, manoeuvring them all out into the main room and the tiny hallway where their shoes and brooms were waiting.

"You know the coordinates?" asked Gaerwn, fishing in his pocket. When they nodded, he handed them each a small golden kestrel with winking green eyes. "Those'll let you get in past the wards, but they're only good for today." He gave Harry a shy glance that told Draco that Gaerwn's crush on the Boy Who Lived was alive and well, then added, "Think of them as a souvenir, I suppose."

"Ace," said Harry with that boyish grin of his, tucking the bird in his pocket.

"I'll keep it under my pillow when I'm pining for you," said Draco, unable to let the opportunity pass entirely by without teasing.

Gaerwn stuck his tongue out, and then Apparated away.

"See you there!" said Harry cheerfully, following, and so Draco gave one last glance around Harry's newly redecorated flat and Apparated after them.

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed when he appeared at the coordinates Gaerwn had set was the overwhelming green of the place. A tug on his wrist pulled him away from the circle he was in, just in time for Draco to Apparate into the space where he'd been standing. Harry stumbled and righted himself, then grinned. "We're visiting the Kestrels," he said, bouncing just a little, his broom bobbing foolishly above his head.

A short, round man in expensive grey silk robes scuttled out from the hallway with a huge grin on his face. "Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, welcome, welcome!" he said, pumping their hands in turn. "Gaerwn, how ever did you get them to accept?"

"We're all being Courted by the same man," said Draco with a smile, "so we're keeping a close eye on the competition as it were."

The little man looked surprised for a moment, then his grin was plastered back as though it had never left. "Follow me, follow me," he said, leading them out of the Apparition room and up a long set of stairs to one of the prime boxes, right next to the balcony where the players made their entrance. He talked as he walked, growing slightly breathless from the exertion. "I am the Kestrels' manager, Octavius Oliphant, and for today we've arranged to have you join the team in a practice match!"

Harry suddenly didn't mind the officious Oliphant nearly so much. "That's brilliant, I can't wait," he said, looking out over the field where the practice-robed team swooped and dived in warm-ups that reminded Harry forcefully of practice under Oliver's leadership.

"Oi, he really brought them!" came a cry from off in the distance, and suddenly a dozen brooms were swooping down to peer into their box.

Gaerwn laughed and waved them off, then led Harry and Draco around to the players' balcony. "Let's fly out and meet them," he said impishly, snagging a broom from the rack of finely kept racing brooms along one wall. 

Harry and Draco readily agreed, eager to begin, so they all mounted up and flew out into the sultry afternoon air to join the team. 

* * *

Hours later, they arrived back at Harry's flat laughing and sweaty, Harry's broom now signed by the whole team and his own signature on no small number of their items. "All right, who wants the first shower? We'll have to be quick if we're going to make dinner," said Harry, tucking his broom away where it belonged and stripping out of his sweat-soaked shirt.

He glared at them both, and Draco shook himself and grinned. "I'll go first. I'll assume your house elf keeps you in clean towels?"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, everything should be set. Hey, Dobby?"

Dobby popped into view with a wide grin on his face. "Yes, Dobby is hearing Master Harry Potter sir!"

Harry chuckled. "Ah, yeah. Could you lay out the extra clothes Draco brought on the bed, and make sure there's clean towels and everything for us all to shower, er, separately?" He paused, remembering the lump in his pocket and added, "Oh, can you also find a case for this? My very first professional Snitch, caught and kept." He tossed the tiny, golden ball at Dobby, glad that it was still deactivated and flew readily into the elf's splayed hands. Harry would add the little golden Kestrel charm to the display later, but for now he was enjoying having it on his person, the better to tease Gaerwn with.

"Dobby is doing it now, Master Harry Potter sir. Will Gaerwn Guinness be wanting his clothing as well?" said Dobby, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his eagerness.

"Aye, after Draco's dressed. I wouldn't want to mix things up," said Gaerwn, giving Draco a wink. "I think my pedestrian pants would chafe his refined bottom."

Draco stuck his tongue out and vanished into the bathroom, and Dobby vanished as well, so Gaerwn stretched out on Harry's new blue couch, arms along the back and looking, to Harry's mind anyway, entirely too inviting. "I bet he wears nothing but silk," said Gaerwn, glancing at the bathroom door. "Anyway, you had fun today, I take it?"

Harry grinned and flopped into the matching armchair, which was nearly as comfortable as his ratty old chair and, he had to admit, quite a lot nicer on the eyes. "It was almost like being fifteen again, only I didn't want to hex Malfoy," said Harry with a wry chuckle.

"More like sex Malfoy these days," said Gaerwn knowingly, and Harry could feel his face heating up. "I'd love a chance to get into those silk pants myself, if he doesn’t end up marrying Snape after all."

"Well, or you don't," said Harry, toeing off his shoes and rather disgusting socks, which he left where they fell, amused as he often was that his old bad habits had become virtues now that he had a house elf to keep busy. "Snape would be a fool not to snatch you up if he could get you."

"I might be a fool not to let him," said Gaerwn thoughtfully. "Anyway, I'll find out about some of it soon enough."

"What d'you mean?" asked Harry, though he thought he might know the answer already.

Gaerwn gave him a speculative look, then shrugged. "During our weekend in the country, I'll be putting in a bid for a bit of Snape's time, if you know what I mean."

Harry swallowed and nodded. "The... trying him out thing," he said, then laughed nervously. "I suppose it's probably good for him that I'm not going to, er, have a tryout. Leaves him some energy for the rest of you."

Gaerwn laughed. "Somehow, Harry, I think he'd find the energy. Being your first will be quite an honour for whoever gets to, not to mention he could try and sweep you off your feet with his prowess and magnificent cock size."

Harry turned beet red and threw his balled-up shirt at Gaerwn. "How would you know about his cock size?" he asked, not deigning to acknowledge the other part of the statement.

"Saw him in the loo, of course," said Gaerwn with an appreciative leer. "I can only imagine how lovely it is when it's full grown."

"Pervert," said Harry, trying and failing to keep his eyes above Gaerwn's waistline. "You're just jealous."

"Of him? Yeah I am, though I'm not small fry by any means," said Gaerwn with that implacable matter-of-factness of his. "Why, you thinking of going for a ride on this broom?" He punctuated his words with an obscene gesture that made Harry roll his eyes.

"I've got all the broom I need in the closet," said Harry dryly, just in time for Draco to emerge, hair and clothing perfect with no sign of the sweaty, windswept man who'd gone into the bathroom mere minutes ago.

"And even if he didn't," said Draco, sitting primly on the chair opposite Harry's, so the three of them were ranged around the unlit fireplace, "he'd have to wait until Courting's over to give yours a go."

"Ah, well, a few more solo flights won't kill me," said Gaerwn philosophically, standing and stretching. "I'm next?"

Harry waved him off with a grin, saying, "Go on, you stink."

"No more than you," said Gaerwn, shirt coming off as he walked and both Harry and Draco's eyes following the retreating backside appreciatively.

"Now that is a man with a lovely seat on a broom," said Draco.

"You're both perverts," said Harry a bit sulkily. He shook his head to snap himself out of the ridiculous mood and said, "Anyway, what should I wear tonight?"

"Something green," said Draco teasingly.

Harry shrugged. "How about those dark green robes with the gold design? They're sort of Kestrel-ish, but not too obvious."

Draco laughed. "It'd make Gaerwn happy, and they do show off your seat rather nicely as well."

Harry stuck his tongue out at Draco childishly. "Just because you're all fit and sexy doesn't mean you need to patronize me," he said, slumping in his chair. "I'll bet you get Snape in bed before anyone."

Draco turned a delicate pink. "I might. I think if I seriously tried, he'd let me, and... well, if he does marry someone else, I'd always feel like I missed out if I didn't, you know, at least once."

Harry sighed; apparently he was as crap at flirting as he was at everything else to do with relationships. "I think you should. I mean, I know you love him even if it's not entirely the right sort of love, and who knows, maybe if you m-made love to him you'd find it _was_ the marrying sort."

Draco shot Harry a look of surprise and said, "Since when have you been wise in the ways of love, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, sighing softly. "Never, really. Though I suppose if you and Snape do get married that leaves Gaerwn for me," he joked feebly.

Draco gave him a speculative look, then shrugged and shook his head. "You could do worse. He seems like he'd take good care of you, even if it didn't end up with you two married and making wizard babies."

"The two of who?" said Gaerwn, and Harry wondered if your head could explode from embarrassment.

"You and Harry, of course, assuming that one shag from Severus sends me into ecstasies of true love," said Draco with the perfect drawling sarcasm that gave no hint as to whether or not he was telling the truth.

Gaerwn laughed, and Harry practically leapt out of his chair. "My turn. You two, er, stay out of trouble," said Harry, barely noticing in his retreat that Gaerwn looked rather fit in his robes, with his hair still damp and curling from the shower.

Harry just hoped he'd survive the evening's teasing with something intact, since Merlin knew his dignity was already in shreds.

* * *

It took a few more days for Draco to gather his resolve, but when he did he went all out. He dressed in his most flattering robes and softest silk underwear, stopped by Severus' very favourite bakery and then imposed himself on Severus for tea.

"I was wondering when you'd show up and regale me with your tales of Quidditch tomfoolery," said Severus when Draco came through the Floo. Severus paused while Draco said the charm to remove the traces of soot still clinging to him, eyeing Draco up and down consideringly. "Ah. It's today, is it?"

Draco flushed and took a moment to compose himself while sending the box of sweets to the kitchen counter with a gentle charm. "I should have known you'd figure it out," said Draco, moving toward Severus slowly.

Severus, for his part, set aside his book and let his eyes heat as Draco came closer, finally holding out a hand, inviting Draco into his arms. "I knew there would come a day when I needed to stop prevaricating and allow myself to be caught," he said.

Draco took the invitation and folded himself into Severus' lap, finding it just as warm and comforting as he'd imagined it would be. "I couldn't stand the idea of being one of your obligations," he said quietly, curling into Severus' embrace the way he'd never been allowed with anyone else.

"You have never been an obligation to me, Draco," said Severus, his usual sarcasm set aside for this moment. He slipped a hand beneath Draco's chin, the long fingers slightly cool against Draco's flushed skin, and tipped Draco's mouth up for a single, chaste kiss. "When I make love to you, it will be more than just this foolish ritual."

Draco smiled, arms coming up to encircle Severus' neck, lips returning the kiss with interest. "And when will that be?" he asked impishly, giving his arse a little wriggle.

Severus chuckled wickedly. "Oh, very soon," he said, hands moving from a simple embrace to explore the contours of Draco's body, the long curves of thigh and back, the inviting hills and valleys of chest and hip.

"Good," said Draco softly, melting under the touch. It felt as though Severus were learning him, one step at a time, and it made him feel like a rare and precious thing, like this experience was one that Severus wanted to draw out and memorise for the future. Their kisses grew from the simple press and slide of lips to an exchange of breath and finally a dance between their tongues, heated and moist. Severus' hands, likewise, made their way into increasingly intimate areas, finding and pinching his nipples, cradling his arse and teasing down the crease, slipping between his thighs to weigh his bollocks and map the shape of his cock pressing up against the silk of his pants and robes.

"You need to take me to bed now," said Draco as Severus' fingers travelled the length of his cock over and over.

Severus chuckled. "You're right," he said, pulling his hands back so Draco could get up first. "You're going to look so good on my sheets."

Draco felt his cheeks heat just a little, but he recovered by bending forward and whispering, "I'll look even better on your cock."

Severus groaned and stood, pulling Draco into his arms for a toe-curling kiss. "Yes," he said, turning them both and escorting Draco up the stairs with his hand in the small of Draco's elegant back. "You will."

Draco slipped out of his shoes as they got through the doorway; he'd worn low house slippers and no socks, wanting as little as possible between him and success, now that he was trying to bed Severus in earnest and not just a tease of seduction. "I thought I wanted to undo all your buttons one by one," said Draco, slipping his hand down the magical seam on the front of his robes, parting the clinging silk as though it were water, "but I find I just want to see you again, and see if you're as magnificent as I remember."

Severus chuckled. "As there are weeks left of my Courtship," said Severus, stepping in front of Draco and pulling out his wand, "I believe you will have the chance to indulge your button fetish another day."

Draco's knees nearly buckled as Severus cast an obscure spell on himself which unfastened all his buttons, from collar to boots. Severus stepped out of his boots and began to divest himself of his clothing, sending each piece to his wardrobe to hang with the smoothness of long habit, revealing himself in stages starting with his feet and ending with his simple white cotton boxers that peeled down to reveal Severus' one truly impressive physical feature, aside from the piercing black of his eyes.

Draco swallowed thickly. "That's a really good spell," he said, staring. He'd been thinking of places to lick Severus since he was sixteen, imagined that heavy cock in his hand or mouth or arse nearly every day since the first time he'd seen it, resting thick and flaccid against Severus' substantial balls. Draco sometimes longed to press tiny kisses all down the bridge of Severus' nose, or play his chin through the wiry curls that made a diamond in the centre of Severus' chest and ringed the pinkish rounds of his nipples. He wanted to follow the trail down with his tongue and see if Severus' navel tasted differently than the surrounding skin, different than Severus' cock.

He shook himself mentally and dragged his eyes upward to meet Severus' gaze, then let his own robe fall gracefully to the floor, leaving him in the silvery grey silk of his own boxers. He slipped them off, stepping forward into Severus' willing arms even as he stepped out of the last of his clothing. "You're even more fascinating now than you were when I was a boy," said Draco, hoping Severus understood.

"And you are finally grown into a man that I am honoured to make love to, rather than a boy I would have defiled," said Severus, smoothing over that old hurt with the gentle caress of his hands over Draco's body, the press of his lips to Draco's welcoming mouth.

Severus walked them over to the bed, then slid beneath the rumpled covers and lifted them, inviting Draco to finally satisfy both years of curiosity and a very immediate desire. Draco slipped in beside him and moulded his body to Severus' as though it had been made for this purpose, kissing and touching him, fascinated by the texture of his skin, the almost feverish heat he gave off now that he wasn't swathed in layer upon layer of fabric. "You're so warm," said Draco, between one kiss and the next.

Severus chuckled, his hands following an abbreviated version of their earlier pattern, moving swiftly from long strokes to intimate caresses this time rather than lingering. "I want to take my time," said Severus roughly, his whole body moving against Draco, "but I find myself too impatient to be inside you."

"God, yes," said Draco, laying back and tugging Severus with him so that Severus ended up between his splayed thighs. "I did a spell, all you need is some oil," he murmured shyly.

Severus laughed, the sound more joyful than Draco had ever heard. "So eager," he said wonderingly, finding a jar of unguent among the scattered items on his nightstand and spreading it over the length of his cock. He slipped two potion-slick fingers into Draco and got an impatient moan in response.

"In me, now, please!" said Draco, shameless as a cat in heat now that the time had come. "Next time, you can do a-all that next time, please," he said, voice breaking in the middle when Severus' fingers found that place inside him that set off sparks in his brain.

"Next time," said Severus roughly, a note of amazement in with all the rest, one that Draco understood all too well. They weren't the sort of people who were used to the idea of next time; even Draco had been on the run with Severus too long to put much stock in the idea that any luxury would be more than a single brief respite.

Severus' hands had lost their grace, clumsy as he spread Draco's legs wider and positioned himself at the entrance to Draco's body. "I want you, Severus, I've always wanted you," said Draco, half encouragement and half plea.

That seemed to be all Severus needed and he pushed in with a rough jerk of his hips, breaching Draco's body and getting nearly the full length of himself inside before he remembered to pause and give Draco some time to adjust. "You feel... amazing," said Severus, sinking that last inch so slowly into Draco that he thought he might go mad.

"So full," said Draco, too distracted to be suave. Severus was huge inside him, hot and solid and somehow it just felt like _more_ when he could see Severus' face above him gone soft with desire and something more tender that he might never admit to.

Severus kissed him hard enough to silence any more foolish talk, folding himself down over Draco and finding just the right angle before he pulled out slowly and pushed in again with a snap of his hips. Draco's body bowed as the pleasure sparked along his veins, tearing his mouth from Severus' to gasp, legs going up around Severus' narrow hips and hands scrabbling at the thin shoulders. Severus took this for the encouragement it was and began to thrust into him in earnest, the pace just as frantic as Draco felt.

They were both panting now, a chorus of short breaths and longer moans, Severus' low and nearly silent, Draco's loud and growing in pitch as he grew closer to the apex of his pleasure. Severus' head bent down and he began to whisper in Draco's ear, filthy nonsense that only drove Draco higher, aroused to hear such words falling from Severus' normally harsh tongue. "Please, please," said Draco, a litany of meaninglessness since his release was inevitable now, a few thrusts away, two, one, and then it broke over him and he shuddered, spilling between them with the memory of Severus' fingers tingling over his prick, the solid reality of Severus' cock thrusting between his thighs.

Severus' teeth closed over Draco's earlobe, a tiny spark of pain that sent Draco higher before he came crashing down, clinging limp and spent to his lover. Severus' hips slowed but didn't stop, taking the time to kiss him, to savour the moment before speeding inexorably toward their goal. "Yes, yes, in me," said Draco, the words spilling out more freely now that his own desire was fulfilled, now that he'd heard Severus saying much dirtier things. "Fuck me," Draco hissed, just to watch the lust spark brighter in Severus' eyes.

"Going to fill you with my come," said Severus, sitting up and holding Draco's gaze, hands on Draco's hips as he drove in with erratic, rough abandon. "You'll be so full you won't be able to hold it all, and I'll kiss your arse and lick my come out of your well-fucked hole and you'll love it." His voice was a low hiss, but loud enough that Draco knew he was meant to hear, meant to remember Severus' words and, Draco hoped, enjoy the fulfilment of their promise.

"Yes, fuck, do it, come inside me, please," said Draco, basking in the effect his words had on Severus, who growled and kissed him hard, hips pumping shallowly as he spilled, finally, deep into Draco's body.

Draco held him as he slumped, spent, stroking the heavy, damp hair out of his eyes and pressing a single, impish kiss to the tip of Severus' nose. "I'm tempted to marry you just for the sex," he said teasingly, not wanting to spoil any of the joy of this moment with talk of serious things.

Severus chuckled tiredly. "You'll wear me out in a week, and I won't have anything left for the other candidates, who will all drop out on the assumption that I'm impotent," he said, back to his refined and pointed sarcasm.

Draco felt a little shiver going up his spine, and he knew he'd never hear Severus speak again without thinking of today. "I'll just tell them all to read you dirty limericks," Draco teased, brushing his lips over Severus'. He felt a yawn well up and let it out, wanting that last luxury of sleeping in Severus' arms, and perhaps more afterwards as well. "You can lick your come out of me after a nap," he said, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with promise.

Severus laughed and kissed him soundly. He pulled out carefully and shifted them around so Draco was comfortably draped over his chest, tucked in next to Severus' longer frame within easy kissing distance. "I'll put it on my calendar," he said, stealing a few more of their languid kisses before sleep claimed them both.

* * *

Severus awoke the next day feeling overly warm and a bit clammy, which was forgiven the moment he identified the heat source curled up at his back. He smiled, a rarity these days, and stretched with languid pleasure, enjoying the sheer decadence of waking up next to someone who not only cared for him, but was an incredibly generous and skilled bedmate.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up," said Draco, giving Severus a sleepy look, tousled head finding its way to Severus' chest. "Still respect me?"

Severus pretended to think about this for all of ten seconds, and then he swooped down and claimed a musty kiss, chaste in deference to the hour. "As much as I ever did," he teased, hand finding and squeezing the arse that had given them both such pleasure just a few hours ago.

"Good," said Draco, his grin growing impish. "That means you'll fuck me again, right?"

Severus laughed. "As many times as I can get away with," he said, kissing Draco's forehead, "but after breakfast. I wish to spend a small portion of time feeling human again before you once again reduce me to a rutting beast."

"Ah, but you were a happy rutting beast," said Draco, gaze growing distant and heated. "I'll wait here while you," he waved his hand in the general direction of the bathroom, "get ready for breakfast."

Severus chuckled and slid out of the bed, not bothering to cover himself as he stalked into the bathroom to take care of his morning ablutions, though he contented himself with a sketchy wash rather than a full bath. When he emerged, Draco had kicked off the covers and was stretching, catlike, a yawn on his lips and a welcome morning erection rising up from between his slender thighs. Severus wondered how on earth he had ever been so lucky as to lure this beautiful creature to his bed, but he only said, "Your turn. I'll make the tea while you clean up."

Somehow, from the grin on Draco's face as he sashayed into the bathroom, Severus got the feeling that Draco heard the other thought anyway.

* * *

"You did it," said Harry, trying to keep his own misery out of his voice as he looked at Malfoy, glowing all over his couch.

"I did it," Draco confirmed, grinning like the proverbial cat who's finally gotten his canary, "and it was wonderful."

Harry slumped into the chair. "I'm going to be the only one who hasn't," said Harry plaintively. A cup of tea appeared at his elbow and he grabbed it and took a sip, used to Dobby's strange methods of comfort by now. "When's the big tasting weekend?"

Draco laughed, too delighted to be put off by Harry's mood. "Tasting weekend, that's funny. Like a wine tasting, only it's Snape on the menu," he said, waggling his eyebrows. "Severus told me it'd be weekend after next, he's going to do the invitations today now that I'm out of his hair."

"Out of his pants, you mean," said Harry, unable to sustain his gloom effectively with Draco so cheerful. He cracked a smile and then gave in and asked, "So? Was it all you'd hoped for?"

"And more," said Draco, shifting in his seat. "I'm lucky I did a preparation spell or I'd be sore!"

"There's preparation spells?" asked Harry, though of course there would be; wizards used magic for everything and they certainly wouldn't leave out sex. "What do they do?"

"Well, the one I used cleans out the, er, area, and relaxes your muscles, so you're ready for it. There's one to make you slick, though a lot of wizards like to brew a potion instead, Snape included. There's ones to make you really relaxed, for, er, multiple partners and stuff, ones to keep your cock hard or keep you from coming... everything you can think of, and more, I'm sure," said Draco, getting way too much pleasure out of telling Harry all about it. "Want me to teach you a couple?"

Harry blushed and sank lower in his chair. "Maybe," he muttered into his cup. He sat in silence for a heartbeat and then asked, "D'you think I'm pathetic for how little I know about this stuff?"

Draco softened, hand finding its way to Harry's knee. "No, Harry, not pathetic. There's nothing wrong with being choosy, or busy, and it's not like you've had someone in your life to give you a proper tour of wizarding culture, especially the naughty parts."

Harry laughed wryly, "No, I don't suppose it would have been good for me to ask my boss about lubricating spells or how not to come so fast," he said, shaking his head. Bill probably would've taken the questions as they were intended, but there were some things Harry just didn't want to discuss with him, and Harry's sex life was on the top of the list.

Draco chuckled and gave Harry's thigh a squeeze before sitting back to sip his own tea. "Look, we're friends now, right?" he asked, and when Harry nodded, he went on. "I know a lot about this stuff, though mostly the things men can do more than the women bits," he said, making a face at the thought, "and friends tell each other about this stuff. So just ask me, whether it's about sex or some other part of our culture, okay?"

Harry sighed and sat up. "All right, I'll... I'll try. You've been really brilliant with the Courtship and everything, it's just embarrassing."

There was a pause, and then Draco said, "Snape found my stuffed Dragon that my father gave me when I was little and gave it back to me as my second gift."

Harry stared, and then he felt something warm burst in his chest as he realized what Draco was doing. "I suppose that's a start," he said, getting up and plopping down on the couch next to Draco. "Do these have to be naked lessons? And aren't we supposed to have a chaperone for our teas?"

Draco chuckled wickedly. "No one knows I'm here but you and Dobby, and Dobby wouldn't tell on his Master for all the gold in Gringotts," said Draco. "I wanted to tell you first, because I didn't know how you'd react. Gaerwn's meeting us for dinner at my place in a couple of hours." He paused just long enough for Harry to worry, and then added, "And no, they don't have to be naked lessons."

Harry let out a sigh of relief big enough that Draco said, "Should I be offended?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no, it's just... I'm not ready for naked anything yet. Not even, y'know, tasting." Draco nodded, and Harry once again felt terribly naive about the whole thing, despite the understanding look. "I know you probably had your first time back at Hogwarts and all," added Harry, "but I was crap at all that back then."

"I hate to break it to you, Harry, but you're still crap at it," said Draco, shaking his head and smiling. "It's a good thing I like you."

"I do, too, you know," said Harry shyly, glancing over at Draco. "Like you, I mean."

"Just not in a naked way," said Draco dryly.

"Well," said Harry, feeling his face heat, "Not _yet_ , anyway."


	7. Tastes

Despite his dwindling bank account, overfull schedule and the challenge of finding yet another round of very personal gifts for those left in the Courtship, not to mention Courting them in the first place, Severus was happy. He'd seen an increase in custom from the publicity about his Courtship, he'd risen to the challenge of the gifts and was quite pleased with his choices, and nearly every day since the first time, he'd been privileged to make love to Draco. A good shag with someone you cared for, who returned the regard to one extent or another, was worth quite a lot to a man like Severus, and it had given him a healthier glow. The frown that had been near-permanent on his features at one point in his life was rarely seen these days, and he'd gained confidence that what had started out looking like a fiasco might actually turn into a happy family, children who would be raised with his mother's name and the love of two doting fathers.

Severus already had plans to be both the disciplinarian, and the giver of sweets, and had been practicing his culinary talents on Draco as well as his other, more intimate skills.

That, however, was putting the cart well before the horse and possibly forgetting the horse altogether, as Severus noted the time. He checked himself in the mirror once more, surprised to see how long his hair had grown in the month since the gallery showing, halfway down his back and then some in a thick, glossy fall. His robes were more casual this time, a deep green linen appropriate for a brunch reception, with white showing at cuffs and throat as was his wont. A subtle scent of his own making surrounded him, and even his breath was fresh from the mint leaf he'd been nervously chewing. He gathered his wits and his courage and strode out the door of the unfamiliar suite with barely a look back, knowing his guests would all be waiting for his entrance.

He strode down the long staircase with deliberate slowness, aware of the dramatic sweep of his generously cut robes, the way his hair swayed in the small breeze that cut across the sunlit landing, and the effect of his rare, genuine smile as his eyes lit first on Draco, then Harry, Gaerwn, Fannie, and Augustus in turn. "Thank you so much for joining me this weekend," said Severus as he stepped down from the last stair and strode over to the group, who were installed on the half-dozen charmingly mismatched chairs and loveseats that had been arranged in a single conversation group at the centre of the parlour.

He took the sixth seat, nodding to acknowledge the murmurs of greeting and thanks, pleased when the maid bustled in to inform them that the buffet was ready whenever they were. "Thank you, your timing is excellent," said Severus.

"Indeed, we were barely all here when you arrived," said Draco with a teasing glance at Harry, who flushed slightly.

Severus looked him over and was amused at the rumpled look of him, as though he'd thrown on the first thing he could find and stumbled through the Floo in hopes he wouldn't be late. "House elf on strike already?" he asked.

Harry laughed. "Nope, in fact Dobby wanted to follow me here. I just, er, had a bit of wardrobe trouble."

"Feline or avian?" asked Severus, much to Gaerwn and Draco's apparent amusement.

Harry coughed. "Both," he said simply. "Dobby took the charm off my wardrobe by accident."

"Aaah," said Severus, then he turned to Fannie and said as charmingly as he could manage, "You, on the other hand, are the very picture of a cool summer breeze."

She giggled, the chiffon of her sheer white over-robe fluttering while the sky blue under-robe undulated disturbingly, as it was cut to fit unsettlingly close to her ample curves. "You've certainly learned some charm since you were a boy, Severus," she said, and Severus winced inwardly. Harry and Draco both would now home in on her for stories of their brief and unfortunate time together at Hogwarts.

"Were you in school together?" said Draco, right on cue.

She giggled and nodded. "I'm afraid I only saw him through his second year, but he had a reputation even then for dabbling in the Dark."

Harry chuckled. "Severus has always been a man who accumulates rumours, but is never quite what anyone expects him to be," he said.

Severus blinked in surprise. "Indeed," he replied, a half-heartbeat too late. "Well, you're no doubt all starving, shall we make our way to the buffet and return to our conversation once our appetites have been satisfied?"

"My appetite's just warming up," said Gaerwn, giving Severus a slow once-over that could only have one meaning.

Severus blushed slightly, having assumed that the athletic young man would eschew his bed for no rational reason. "I assure you," said Severus, standing and smoothing down his robes pointedly, "I have arranged for sufficient sustenance to satisfy even you, Gaerwn."

Everyone laughed and Severus thought he heard Gaerwn mutter, "So I hear," but he dismissed it as irrelevant. After all, they'd likely all find out this weekend who was compatible with whom, except perhaps pure Potter.

The group broke up, everyone making their way over to the sideboard, which contained an entirely different assortment of foods now that he'd changed caterers, something that would appeal to a different part of each of his guests' tastes than the food at the dinner and gallery, or the various private teas. Conversation ebbed and flowed, and Severus felt a satisfaction of his own, that he'd done the best he could with what he had and was succeeding beyond anyone's expectations, even his own.

* * *

The afternoon was whiled away in cards and gossip by some, Harry and Draco luring Frannie and Trimble -- Severus could never bring himself to think of the man as Augustus -- out to the patio so they could hear stories of Severus' misspent youth. Gaerwn took the opportunity to claim the first slot on Severus' dance card, and did some luring of his own, though in this Severus went gladly. Despite Draco's reassurances, Severus found it a pleasant surprise that a handsome man like Gaerwn was so eager to sample what Severus had to offer, enough so that they were nearly caught kissing on the stairs by the maid, who giggled and dusted the banister pointedly.

"Perhaps we ought to retire to my room," said Severus sardonically, smirking at the woman and getting an impertinent wink in return.

Gaerwn laughed and gestured upwards. "Lead on, my sweet."

Severus raised one eyebrow at that, then shrugged and led him up to the topmost floor, which had been made into a master suite. "I doubt you find me as sweet as all that," he said, pausing in the parlour to give one last chance for Gaerwn to decline.

Gaerwn's eyes travelled down and back up Severus' body, taking on a decidedly hungry mien as he said, "I'll have to taste all of you, just to be sure."

Severus felt colour rising to his cheeks, and he covered up with a sweep of his unbound hair as he opened the door leading to the bedroom. "Then by all means," he said with a little bow, "After you."

Gaerwn laughed, brushing up against Severus and then pausing for another kiss, one which lived up to the promise that the earlier one had only hinted at, his large hands encircling Severus' waist and his mouth hot and so very talented. Severus could tell that Gaerwn was used to taking the lead, and he allowed it for now, letting Gaerwn be the one to walk them into the room, though he took the trouble to close the door behind them. Gaerwn's mouth was slick and demanding, his lips soft against Severus', but strong enough to make Severus' knees weak.

There wasn't love in the kiss, but there was enough other things to make Severus decide then and there that Gaerwn would make the final cut, and get a contract. He chuckled to himself at the mercenary thought and took back some of the lead, hands finding the fastenings to Gaerwn's simple brown robes and working them open from the throat down.

"Sweet enough so far," said Gaerwn, when Severus' mouth left his in favour of the skin he'd exposed, trailing down the pulse in his neck and tasting the skin stretched taut over that thrumming beat.

"I have to agree," said Severus, turning them around so Gaerwn's back was to the bed, then dropping to his knees to better navigate the clever gold clips that went all the way down the front of Gaerwn's robes, his fingers working deftly down while his mouth strained upward, exploring the flat plane of Gaerwn's stomach, lapping at one peaked nipple.

Gaerwn moaned, thick fingers tangling in Severus' hair and making Severus glad for the hundredth time that he'd finally allowed himself to do something about it. Draco had taken to wrapping the thick stuff around his cock, or making Severus trail it over his naked body, which was reason enough to keep it up for the rest of his life, if he was to be afforded such luxuries as a result. Severus got the final clasp undone and slid his hands up Gaerwn's body from ankles to waist, opening the robe and revealing him to be just as fit and strong as Severus had imagined, from his broad chest with its scattering of red hair to thighs as thick and solid as Draco's waist, though quite a bit more furred.

"I've imagined you like this, on your knees for me," said Gaerwn, and Severus grinned and obliged, leaning forward to nuzzle his cock through his white linen pants.

"I've imagined what you'd taste like," said Severus, eyes half-lidded and very satisfied when Gaerwn slipped out of his robe, letting it fall to the ground in a puddle between him and the bed. Severus leaned in and nipped at his cockhead gently, then tugged the tie of his pants with careful teeth, getting the bow undone so the fabric sagged. He slid his hands back down, hips to thighs to calves to ankles and taking the pants with them, mouth occupied with sliding up the length of Gaerwn's cock from base to tip.

Severus had to admit he was impressed as he took the fat head into his mouth, sucking at it like an ice lolly before letting his lips slip downward, a slow, teasing glide down to the base, until the substantial length was buried in his relaxed throat. It wasn't as comfortable as doing this for Draco, who was more slender and just a little shorter, but it felt good to see the shocked pleasure on Gaerwn's face, and that was enough for Severus, for now. Severus let his eyes fall shut and concentrated on his other senses: the feel of Gaerwn's thigh muscles shifting as he stepped out of his pants; the scent of desire that rose, fresh and hot, from his skin; the salt taste of his skin tinged with the bitter edge of precome, and the bright metallic tease of blood just under the surface; the sound of Gaerwn's moans, low and rough, edged about with sibilants that never quite turned into Severus' name.

Gaerwn tugged his hair and Severus pulled back obligingly, looking up at Gaerwn's flushed face. "I can't hold back much longer, and I want... I want to be inside you, and then later, the other way 'round," he said, panting between words which became slowly more coherent as his desire faded back to manageable levels. "If I'm allowed to double dip, that is," he added, with a sheepish grin that was charming enough to win Severus over even if he hadn't been rather pleasantly eager to accede already.

"I expect that can be arranged," said Severus, unfolding himself as gracefully as he could, suddenly acutely conscious that this one night might change his future forever. He stepped forward and cupped Gaerwn's face tenderly, offering up a kiss that held all of his uncertainties and the heat of his own desires as well.

Gaerwn drank them all down, broad hands resting on Severus' back, drawing him in close so Severus' clothed body pressed firmly against the heat of Gaerwn's naked one. "I want to see you first," said Gaerwn, the words barely more than a puff of air against Severus' lips.

Severus grinned into the kiss and stepped back, then waved his wand over himself, Banishing all his clothing to the wardrobe in one recently-perfected move. Draco had applauded the first time Severus showed it to him, but Gaerwn just lifted one eyebrow and looked Severus up and down appreciatively. "You've seen," said Severus, his voice low and seductive as he sauntered around the bed, making sure to give Gaerwn an excellent view before climbing in and posing on the coverlet with his thighs spread, "I think the next step was you inside me?"

Gaerwn had turned, his whole body following Severus' progress like a sunflower following the sun, so he was standing at the foot of the bed staring at Severus when he was done. He swallowed and nodded as though he didn't trust his voice, and crawled forward into the space between Severus' knees. He lowered his mouth to Severus' cock, licking up the length and sucking on the head until it was Severus' turn to worry about ending their first round prematurely. Fortunately Gaerwn seemed to sense that and move down, first lavishing attention on Severus' heavy balls until they drew up and out of his way, then into the shadowy crevice beneath.

Severus gladly spread wider, bringing his knees up to accommodate the tongue that worked its way inside him, his body open and ready thanks to the very charm Draco had cast for their first time. Severus groaned and threw his head back, trying to dismiss Draco long enough to give Gaerwn the attention he so richly deserved, concentrating on the feeling of Gaerwn's mouth so intimately connected to his body. "Soon," he gasped, finding his wand still in his hand and gathering his concentration up enough to summon the lubricant he'd brewed just for this occasion, slippery and highly neutral in both flavour and magical properties.

He'd brewed another potion for the weekend as well, just in case, but wouldn't be needing it with handsome, enthusiastic Gaerwn. "Please," said Severus, sliding the bottle down his body until it was nestled against his balls, just waiting for Gaerwn to use it.

Severus gasped when Gaerwn pulled his mouth away and asked, "Slick?"

Severus nodded, and Gaerwn sat up further, while Severus rolled over onto elbows and knees. Gaerwn unstoppered the bottle and poured a bare few drops onto his fingers. He rubbed his thumb over them and smiled, bringing them up to smell and taste. "This is good stuff, Severus. Hard to make, too," he said, pouring just enough over two fingers, then slipping them with surprising care into Severus' body.

Gentle though it was, the unaccustomed intrusion surprised a whimper out of Severus, and Gaerwn's eyes grew warm and understanding. "Been awhile?" he asked, fingers gliding in and out with care and skill, crooking forward once in awhile to brush over the spot inside to make Severus arch and moan.

Severus didn't bother to answer, letting himself sink into the simplicity of pleasure, hands going overhead to grip the headboard while his body arched and undulated along with each thrust of Gaerwn's fingers. They were both too impatient to be getting on with things to allow for lingering over even this task, however, and soon two fingers gave way to three, and three vanished entirely, to be replaced with a teasing cockhead and whispered queries.

"Now, please," murmured Severus in reply, though his body had already answered for him by taking Gaerwn's slick cock inside himself with a tilt of his hips, heat into heat and Gaerwn moaned, letting himself slide the rest of the way inside.

"Bloody hell," Gaerwn swore, scattering kisses along Severus' shoulders, face burying itself in Severus' hair.

Severus tightened his muscles just to draw a gasp from Gaerwn, and another curse, and then he was thrusting and Severus was rocking and everything was hot and slick and perfect, or as perfect as it could be when it was practically a stranger inside his body, not to mention practically his fiancee.

He dismissed those thoughts as unworthy of the moment, and of Gaerwn, who was certainly putting his all into their union. Gaerwn's broad hands roamed over the taut planes of Severus' body, stretched from headboard to cock while Severus revelled in the masculinity of him, all low groans and sweat and forceful thrusts into Severus' willing body. Another, much more inevitable thought insinuated itself into his consciousness as the tension built inside of him, winding him tighter and tighter until all it took was a few dozen strokes of one broom-callused hand to break him apart entirely.

Gaerwn coaxed Severus through his release, nuzzling at his neck and gentling his thrusts as though taking a trained animal through a difficult manoeuvre, but he couldn't bring himself to mind when it felt so good. The pleasure crashed through him in waves, each one drawing a little cry from his lips, and sending a shudder through his body until he was limp and sated, though by no means finished for the night. He went back down to his elbows and tightened up again, getting a ragged moan in response.

"Your turn," whispered Severus, using the freedom of his languor to direct his attention to Gaerwn's body, using small tilts and twists of his hips to add to Gaerwn's pleasure.

Gaerwn sped up again, rougher now that Severus had been seen to, less finesse and more pure lust in his movements as he rode his own wave to its crest, burying himself deeply and shuddering silently when it broke over him. He collapsed onto Severus, though not so heavily that Severus needed to protest, chuckling softly as they both shifted until they were comfortably entwined. "You'd definitely be worth marrying for the sex," said Gaerwn, his body slowly relaxing into the afterglow.

"The feeling is quite mutual, I assure you," said Severus, idly toying with Gaerwn's sweat-soaked red hair. He felt a yawn try to take him by surprise, and turned it into a chuckle of his own instead. "Don't think this gets you out of bottoming, though."

Gaerwn laughed outright and surged upward for a hot, hungry little kiss. "I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Harry hated how jealous it made him, sitting there laughing with Draco who'd been sleeping with Snape for weeks, Frannie who kept making innuendo about how she planned to be next, Trimble who countered with caveats about the wisdom of assuring compatibility, and Gaerwn off with Snape _right then_ , having sex in the middle of the afternoon. And Harry, who blushed and stammered and couldn't have been less subtle if he tried, though Draco helped to cover for him a little by steering the conversation away from any speculation on Harry's level of experience.

"You're just holding out to make him want it more," said Draco teasingly, for approximately the millionth time since they started playing bridge.

Harry sighed and played a card from his hand, which from Draco's glare wasn't the right one at all, and shot back, "Well, between you three and Gaerwn, I didn't want to wear him to a stub."

That got the laughs it was intended to, and another hand went around until Draco spoke up again. "So, Frannie, what was our suitor like as a wee firstie, anyway?"

She got a sly look and laid down a trump card, and took the trick. "He was as unpleasant a little bastard then as now," she said with great glee. "Hexed the pants off some poor bloke his first day, and pretty much made his reputation."

"I expect that would be either my father, Sirius Black, or possibly Lupin?" said Harry, throwing away a low card and finding he really didn't care about winning or losing anymore, not that he had particularly in the first place.

Frannie laughed and took a sip of her tea, then gathered the cards up, obviously drawing out the moment. "It was indeed your father, Harry, and let me tell you he was a little blighter right off the bat, too. A legendary rivalry was born that day, a bit like you and Mr. Malfoy, I suspect," she said speculatively, looking from one to the other before adding innocently, "Perhaps it's just a very young sign of unresolved sexual tension?"

Harry barked out a laugh. "At eleven, I don't think I knew how to spell sex, let alone have any leanings toward it."

"He was a late bloomer," said Draco slyly, surprising another laugh out of Harry.

"You can say that again. Remember the Yule Ball in our Fourth Year? I don't think the Patil twins ever forgave me for being utterly useless with girls, not to mention uninterested."

"And now you're all set up to marry a nice bloke," said Frannie speculatively. "Perhaps that's a sign, Harry, that you oughtn't force yourself down the path of love your feet do not naturally tread."

It took Harry a moment to puzzle out the bizarre sentiment, and when he did he just shrugged and smiled enigmatically.

"Our Harry's been treading all sorts of paths on his way here," said Draco, eyes sparkling with mischief, "He's been all over the globe, you know."

"I'm sure our plebian British lives seem quite staid by comparison," said Trimble. He'd been shy for the whole game, and Harry felt grateful to him for making the effort.

"Oh, I doubt that," said Harry with a shrug. "I expect you see things every day that I'd be amazed by. I never really get used to being a wizard, you know. I grew up without magic and so every time I run across something new I always feel like a plebe myself."

Harry's humbleness seemed to impress Trimble, which was good, since Harry rather liked the stolid little man. He was steady and practical, but without the bitterness of someone like Madam Pince; rather like a more sophisticated version of Hagrid, someone who accepted what needed to be done and did it, though without the fascination for dangerous creatures.

"That explains your shoes," teased Frannie, and Harry flushed and shuffled his feet in their ratty old trainers self-consciously.

"I tried to shop for proper wizarding shoes once," said Harry, remembering back to the day he'd wandered into some shop in Diagon Alley nearly by accident. "It was all too confusing for me. Who needs shoes that sing to you when you're lost?"

"The way your life goes, you'd never get them to shut up," said Draco with a snort.

Trimble chuckled politely. "Well, if you don't mind my saying so, perhaps you were in the wrong shop? At Trimble's Toes, we'd be happy to find you something that held only the charms you wanted, or none at all if all you require is sturdy wizard make."

Harry smiled, relieved that he hadn't been insulted. "Perhaps I ought to stop in and let you fit me up," he said. "I'm afraid these are down to their last legs, and I haven't had time to buy more."

Trimble blinked. "Do you... that is to say, are those your only pair of shoes?"

Harry shrugged and flushed a little. "I hate shopping," he said by way of explanation, then distracted them all by taking a trick for no apparent reason.

That got them all back into the game, and once Frannie and Trimble had properly won, they switched over to playing poker for biscuits kindly provided by the staff, which was a bit more Harry's speed, as it mostly relied on luck. They played until it was time for dinner, at which point a sheepish Gaerwn and smug Snape deigned to join them, and Harry felt that bite of jealousy again, sharper than before.

"He's everything you claimed and more," mock-whispered Gaerwn to Draco, sending Harry a wink.

Draco smiled like the cat who got the canary and said, "I know."

* * *

Draco was starting to feel a real sympathy for Harry by Sunday dinner, watching everyone around the table glow with satisfaction except Draco, who'd been glowing for weeks anyway, and Harry himself. "You'll come for that appointment now, won't you?" Trimble was saying, looking earnest and mildly distressed over Harry's lack of proper footwear.

"Do wizards have trainers?" asked Harry curiously. "I like them best, so even if I do get some proper wizard shoes, I'll want some of those as well."

Trimble chuckled. "We'll get you outfitted. In fact, if you won't consider it an intrusion, I can have the family elf go visit with yours and get an idea of your wardrobe, so we know what you need."

Harry grinned at that, the brilliant smile that always seemed to make Draco's heart skip a beat these days, so openly delighted in a way Draco had been trained out of far too early to get it back now. "Now that you have a wardrobe, you ought to listen to him," said Draco, leaning in and putting his hand on Harry's thigh, just for the satisfaction of watching him flush ever so slightly.

"Yeah, sure," said Harry, shifting in his seat enough to make Draco's fingers slip up and inward, bringing heat to both their cheeks before Draco moved the hand away. "Tuesday at two, right?"

"Correct. Dimble will be by sometime before then, though he's quite shy and likely you'll never even know," said Trimble with a pleased little smile.

Harry nodded, sipping his wine, and Draco gave him a nudge. "Finish your steak, I think Severus wants to switch courses," he said, though he knew Harry was likely full, having eaten a lot of his biscuit winnings this afternoon while Gaerwn was busy having seconds of Severus.

"I couldn't," said Harry, wiping his mouth on his napkin and setting his knife and fork down. "I'm stuffed as it is."

"Then we shall have to pause before pudding," said Severus, slipping smoothly into the stream of their conversation. "If everyone is ready?"

Nods all around, and the remains of their food vanished, to be replaced not by a sweet, but by their gifts. Everyone's gifts looked the same this time, a sheer silk bag that contained a wooden box, though the choice of colours was different for everyone. Draco's was a soft green that reminded him more of spring grass than the Slytherin crest, especially with the dark walnut box that would match beautifully with Severus' parlour. He slipped the silk down and opened the lid, momentarily blinded by the miniature sun on the inside of the lid, which faded out as soon as the true sunlight hit it. Inside there was a small Lady Luck Lily, quite rare and valuable not as an ingredient, but instead as a personal talisman. If one kept it happy and alive, it was said to impart a small measure of good fortune to its owner, in everything they did.

Harry's box was a warm mahogany, with a gold silk bag that made the wood look richer. It, too, shone brightly when he opened it, as did all the boxes around the table. "I had thought to give you all something more individual," said Severus as they peered inside, "but when the opportunity came to me to acquire these, I felt I would be doing you all a disservice by allowing my own prejudices to keep them from being your gifts."

"I certainly can't complain," said Trimble, gently stroking the silky blossom. "Do you have any information on the care and feeding of them?"

Severus smiled. "Of course. Note that there is a drawer in the front of each box, at the bottom," he said, and Draco smiled to see the small silver dragon drawer-pull on his. He slid it out, and found a deeper space inside, containing a book and several potions, presumably everything they'd need to care for their new plants. "The potion should be enough for many years, and of course I am happy to replace any lost to accidents, for so long as our acquaintance holds."

Draco smiled to himself; it must not have been expensive to brew, if he was making an offer like that, or else the batch had been huge and he had an excess of something that would be hard to dispose of, considering the specific use. "It's an incredibly thoughtful gift, Severus, thank you. I'm sure all of us could use a little more luck in our lives. Well, maybe not Harry."

Harry flushed and ducked his head. "I could use a bit of luck here and there," he said, seemingly fascinated with his new flower. "I'll have to keep it away from Hedwig and Algernon, though."

"Actually," said Severus with a touch of smugness to his smile, "If you fit the pot into the depression on the lid, the magics used to maintain the environment inside will instead be used to keep anyone but its owner from touching it."

"That's very clever," said Draco, closing the lid and tracing the dip at the top with a smile. "Thank you very much, Severus, for a rare and wondrous gift."

A chorus of thanks went around the room, and everyone moved their boxes carefully into the centre of the table so that pudding could appear in the form of trifle for everyone. Draco personally found trifle a bit pedestrian, but everyone else seemed delighted, and when he took a bite he found out why -- the cream was lighter than air and the cake nearly as fluffy, while fresh fruit separated the layers rather than typical jam, elevating it far above the average trifle and into the realm of heavenly sweets. "You know," said Draco, licking a bit of cream off his spoon deliberately, "I'm starting to think I ought to marry you just for the food."

Everyone laughed, and that started another round of compliments, which turned into a more serious discussion of everyone's intentions.

"You know I'm in it for the long haul now," said Gaerwn bluntly, sipping the sweet sherry that had come with their pudding. "Not much would keep me out at this stage, except yourself, of course."

Severus chuckled. "I find myself unexpectedly blessed, and will have a hard time deciding on this next round, unless someone chooses to step down." Draco knew that for a lie, but it was a good one -- something might happen to take one of the top three out of the running, and Severus needed that cushion of goodwill.

"I have to say that after seeing you during the Courtship, I feel I could only benefit by bringing you into the family," said Trimble, flushing just enough to let Draco know that he didn't just mean Severus' excellent taste in food and gifts.

"Thank you, Augustus," said Severus, his voice carrying a warmth it hadn't held when speaking with Trimble previously. Apparently, thought Draco with his own surge of jealousy, they'd found some common ground once their clothes were off. "I, too, am far more sanguine about our match now that we've had a chance to become better acquainted."

Frannie batted her eyelashes and gave a little wriggle. "I find I've grown quite fond of you myself, Severus, darling," she simpered.

Draco coughed a little; apparently Severus had outdone himself. Severus shot him a look, and then replied with as much dignity as he could manage, "I'm sure you will make an excellent mother, Frannie."

"As you'll be a good father," said Harry softly, looking up at Severus with pink cheeks and pleading eyes. "You've put so much effort into getting there, but it's only made you warmer and happier."

Severus' face softened for just a moment, betraying an affection for Harry that gave Draco hope for his own plans; if Severus cared for Harry that much, then Draco might yet have a shot at keeping them both. 

"You'll make your husband or wife happy as well," said Draco with a twinkle in his eyes, relieved when the naked vulnerability fled from Severus' face.

"Or so I hear," said Harry with a wry little laugh.

That broke the serious tone, and the conversation moved on, or back as it were, to innuendo and teasing. There wouldn't be any bed hopping tonight; everyone was already packed, and they'd split up and go home after this, to await their letters from Severus within seven days. Severus wouldn't be required to produce the contracts for another several weeks after that, to give him time to Court them each individually and discern the details that he'd include in each.

Draco, personally, couldn't wait for the wooing.


	8. Check and Mate

Gaerwn came through the Floo, looking around curiously at Severus' parlour and smiling sheepishly. "I know you must think I'm just here for more sex," he said, kissing Severus softly by way of greeting, "but I'm afraid not this time."

"A shame," said Severus teasingly. In truth, he'd wondered why Gaerwn had responded to his owl with a request for a meeting, and had held a lead weight in his stomach ever since. Gaerwn was, after all, his top choice for husband, given Harry's reluctance and Draco's other prospects, and although Trimble was nice enough and a surprisingly generous lover, Severus knew it would never be a love match.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Severus, because a part of me truly does want the life you're offering me," said Gaerwn, gently pulling Severus into his arms.

"But you're dropping out," said Severus woodenly, going stiff in the embrace despite the comfort in it.

"I finally made First String on the team," explained Gaerwn gently, the note of excitement in his voice unmistakeable. "It's the only thing that could have kept me from you, and it's probably your fault anyway."

"The Luck Lily, you mean?" asked Severus, amused by the irony of it. "Possibly, though Draco tells me Potter fed you all some Prosperity Wine at the start of the Courtship as well."

"That might be it," said Gaerwn, taking a kiss that started tentative, and lingered when Severus allowed it to, arms coming up to twine around Gaerwn's solid shoulders. "I don't feel all that lucky, having to give you to someone else."

"But quite prosperous," said Severus, his voice heavy with irony and just a touch of loss. They'd have made beautiful children, the two of them, and it hurt to let that dream go when it had been so nearly in his grasp. "I'm going to miss you," he said stupidly.

"I'll miss you, too, Severus," said Gaerwn, following it with another kiss, this one going from apologetic to heated before Severus knew what hit him.

A small, sad smile made its way to Severus' face. "Once more for the road?" he said, giving a little wriggle so that there would be no doubt of his meaning.

"Oh, at least once," said Gaerwn, big hands already working at Severus' robes.

They even made it upstairs, eventually.

* * *

Severus was reading on the comfortable sofa, a smile lighting up his sharp features when Harry arrived through the Floo. His spare frame unfolded itself gracefully as he came over to help Harry do the soot-removal spell. "I must confess, I'm quite glad that you chose to join me here at home for our final date," he said with an impish smile that Harry could only return, even if his was a bit less bright than usual. "I have had a hard time figuring out what to put in your contract that will win you over."

Harry tried not to flinch at that; he'd slowly grown to like and even care for Severus over the weeks of his Courtship, and Draco as well, and just as inevitably he'd watched the two of them grow closer and more affectionate, until Harry had no doubts at all who would be standing beside Severus on his wedding day. It was strange to think he'd want that with Severus Snape, but his life had changed so much since the end of the war, this was just one more change. He swallowed a sigh and wished that growing up was just a little less painful, making sure his smile didn't falter. Much.

"You obviously had something planned," said Harry, leaning in to brush a soft kiss over Severus' lips, a greeting that Draco assured him was traditional in these last few weeks of Courtship. "I know better than to get between a Slytherin and his scheme," he teased, hoping to hide his nerves.

"You can be taught," said Severus dryly, tucking Harry's hand into the crook of his arm and taking them into the kitchen. There were candles everywhere, floating as they had at Hogwarts, spilling warm light into all the nooks and crannies of the room. The table was covered in little plates, each one with a different dish laid out on it, everything from olives to seafood, rice to hors d'ouvres.

"Is this all your salad plates?" asked Harry, having no idea how to respond to or deal with such an array of foods, many of which he'd never seen before in his life.

Severus laughed. "I believe so, though that isn't the point. You said you'd never had Spanish food, so I decided to make tapas for us." He led Harry to one of the two chairs, which were on the same side of the table this time, close enough that their thighs brushed when he took his own seat.

"You'll tell me what everything is, then?" asked Harry, letting them remain touching, and even leaning into Severus' warmth just a little.

Severus smiled, rubbing Harry's thigh gently, and said, "It has always been one of my goals to educate your palate."

Harry laughed and allowed Severus to feed him a perfect green olive, the flesh salty and just a little spicy, the pit Banished before it ever made it to the table. He stole a kiss to end it, and then fed Severus another one off the plate, though his hand shook just a little. "It's delicious," Harry murmured, kissing Severus again, his whole body pressed against Severus' now.

"Harry," said Severus softly, once the kiss came to an end, "what are you playing at?"

Harry sighed; he'd hoped to have a bit longer to just enjoy the moment before he admitted what he was up to, not that he really expected Severus to object. "I... I know you're going to marry Draco, and you should, he loves you and he's so happy and... I, I didn't want to miss my only chance, just because I was saving something that's not really worth anything to anyone, not even me really, and I l-like you and I know you'll be, you'll make it feel good, and..." Harry trailed off, swallowing against the lump in his throat.

"You wish to... experience one night with me, under the belief that this once is better than never knowing?" said Severus, his voice holding wonder and sympathy and even a tinge of desire. He kissed Harry again, as if answers could be found there that wouldn't come from talking, and Harry put all the need that had built up over the long weeks into the kiss, all the longing and heartache.

"Will you?" asked Harry; it was his one real fear about tonight, more than anything else, that Severus might try to save him from himself.

Severus chuckled. "I would always regret it, if I did not," he said softly, kissing Harry again. "Though I would not assume, were I you, that my choice of mates is so simple or straightforward."

Harry let out a hopeless little sound and kissed Severus again, not wanting to be reassured in this; it was hard enough to come to terms with letting go of whatever it was they had built between them, without adding in false hope. "Take me to bed, Severus, I'm too nervous to be hungry," he said, meaning to sound seductive and mostly coming off plaintive.

Severus didn't seem to mind, anyway, since he pulled Harry up and led him out of the kitchen, not even bothering to spare a charm for the food he'd so carefully prepared. "I'd rather feast on you any day," he teased, eyes warmer than Harry had ever seen them, holding not only the affection he'd glimpsed a time or two but a heat that he'd never let loose around Harry before.

"Tonight I'm all yours," said Harry, his own voice holding mostly desire with just a tinge of sadness. He wouldn't ever get to hold Draco this way, or be held by him, though Gaerwn might be willing to have a go once he was settled into his new position on the team -- he'd sent them all Season Passes as an apology and gesture of continuing friendship. This was Harry's one chance to have a little piece of that happiness that he saw when Severus and Draco were together, and he wouldn't spoil it being maudlin. "Take me to bed?" he asked again, more earnestly this time.

"Gladly," said Severus, tugging Harry up the stairs, lighting the candles with a wave of his wand and barely giving Harry a chance to catch his breath before pressing him down to the fresh-made bed. "I've wanted you here for ages."

"I've wanted to be here since I first saw it," admitted Harry, slipping off his new house shoes and then fumbling to toe off the socks as well; he hadn't worn anything at all under his light summer robe, and he could feel the heat of Severus' body easily through the thin fabric.

Severus groaned, hands moving over Harry's body even as his mouth kept Harry's busy, touching, stripping, making short work of Harry's clothing and his own as well, pulling back the bedclothes with something like determination. "I..." he said once, then cut himself off with a shake of his head and kissed Harry again instead.

Harry let himself be lain out on the crisp white sheets, let Severus draw him back into a fervent embrace, this time without the hampering of any clothing to keep his prick from finding the hollow of Severus' hip, to keep him from feeling the full length of Severus' cock against his own thigh. "Yes," said Harry instead, having no idea what Severus had stopped himself from saying, and wanting no questions left between them of permission or advisability. "I want it to be you, Severus, please."

There was nothing more to say after that, only the heat of Severus' body, every part hotter than the last from his mouth to his hands, his skin to his cock. Harry knew he'd come too soon but he couldn't be arsed to care, it wasn't like Severus was unaware of his inexperience. He knew he hadn't a hope of impressing the man who'd successfully wooed Draco, Gaerwn and even the stoic Trimble during the Courting. Instead he gave himself over to it, hands touching whatever skin was presented, mouth kissing when there was something to kiss and gasping for breath when there wasn't, legs spreading wantonly and finally his whole body shuddering with release, not from any one particular thing but just one sensation too many.

Severus' fingers skittered to a halt against his hip and Harry blinked his eyes open shyly to find a look of wonder on Severus' face. A hungry kiss forestalled whatever Severus might have said then, false promises or unimportant reassurances that Harry didn't need or want at this juncture. A softly murmured spell Banished the mess and then Severus' mouth began to travel over Harry's skin once again, not exploring this time but tracing a slow but direct line down to Harry's groin. Harry eagerly arched forward, his own mouth watering at the thought of finally tasting Severus' heavy cock, or running his tongue over the warm bollocks below, just as Severus was doing to him.

A sigh left Harry as Severus' mouth descended further, and he allowed himself to be bent and spread and speared on the tongue that had pierced him so many times, and yet never before so pleasurably. Harry squirmed, hands finding their way into Severus' hair, loosening it from its clasp and feeling it fall like silk around him, straight and clean and thick, a teasing caress to his thighs and cock while Severus' hands were busy holding him wide open. Words half-formed left Harry's lips, but he didn't care anymore, not when he was so close to finally knowing something of Severus, of himself.

More spells and, Harry thought, a potion summoned as well, and fingers had replaced the tongue and Severus' mouth moved teasingly around, nipping at his thighs and licking at the hollow of a hipbone, running just once up the length of his cock to dip curiously into the slit. Harry thought he might explode again before they even got properly started, but Severus seemed to sense his desperation, or perhaps Harry managed something coherent in the jumble of moans and whimpers falling from his mouth. Severus slipped the fingers free and gathered Harry close, kissing him softly once, twice, and then deeply as his cock slid its way home, finding the very heart of Harry and wrenching free a cry of pure need.

Harry wrapped his legs around Severus, and arms as well when that seemed like it wouldn't be enough to keep him inside, but the slow glide outward turned into a thrust that shouldn't have surprised him but did anyway. Harry felt him do it again, and again, and soon he'd lost all sense of anything except the feeling of Severus filling him up over and over until he knew he'd overflow any second. He was shocked when it was Severus who broke first, crying out softly as he spilled into Harry's body, head thrown back in abandon and face half-hidden beneath the loose curtain of his hair.

Warm fingers came down to wrap around Harry's cock, shallow thrusts keeping Severus hard and inside Harry as he took the final faltering steps toward completion. He gasped and whimpered, coming over Severus' hand and clinging even tighter, hating that it was over even as the pleasure washed through him, wiping away his doubts for a brief moment of bliss.

"Wow," said Harry, blinking his eyes open and smiling with a mixture of goofy satisfaction and languid shyness. He loosened his grip on Severus' hips and shoulders, letting his legs fall away and his hands rest gently at the nape of Severus' neck. "I, um. Wow."

Severus threw his head back and laughed, long and joyful, dipping down for a series of kisses sprinkled with chuckles that passed from Severus to Harry and back again. "Wow indeed, Harry," he said softly, cradling Harry close, heedless of messy hands and bellies.

Harry kissed Severus again just because he could, now, and later he would lose the privilege. "I think we need a bath," he said slyly, having had his eye on Severus' decadent bathtub nearly as long as the bed.

"I think we need to make love in the bath," corrected Severus with a wicked smile that said he knew exactly what Harry was up to. "Our date need not end until morning, or perhaps after tea tomorrow, if that is what you wish."

Harry felt a rush of butterflies through his stomach, and they seemed to clog up his throat for a moment on their way out before he could relax into the warmth they left behind. "I suppose I could clear my calendar," he said, kissing the tip of Severus' nose, and then back to the damp, tempting lips below.

"I must admit," said Severus, sending the warm feeling bursting all through Harry's body with his next words, "I had already cleared mine, out of a distant and foolish hope."

* * *

"You really did it!" said Draco for the seventeenth time, curled up at one end of Harry's couch while Harry occupied the other, looking dreamy and mussed and thoroughly shagged out.

"We really did," said Harry dreamily, hugging the pillow he'd been mauling for the past half hour, since he got home from tea to find Draco waiting in his apartment for news. "I'm glad I decided to."

"I'm glad you did, too," said Draco, feeling a sudden sharp envy not for Harry who deserved every pleasure Severus could give him and more, but for Severus, having had the chance to be the one to give that pleasure. "I can't believe it's almost over," he added softly.

Harry flinched, and Draco immediately regretted his words. "Yeah, I guess... I couldn't let myself miss out on my one chance, y'know?"

Draco nodded. "I know, Harry. If it's any consolation, I think he's the best choice you could've made for your first, considering."

Harry smiled, wryly this time, with a touch of almost nostalgic affection in his voice as he said, "Yeah, I know. He took really good care of me, and even let me try... everything. Though I still don't know which I prefer."

"Oh, really?" said Draco, eyebrows going up. He'd been suspicious when he learned that Harry hadn't made it back last night, and now he knew just what they'd been up to. Erotic images of the two of them and himself as well began to play through his mind, and he shivered. "Perhaps you're just a bit of both?"

"Well, which are you?" asked Harry curiously.

Draco flushed just slightly, but he figured after everything it was the least he could do. "I'm mostly a bottom, though I wouldn't say no to the occasional chance to top," he said, as casually as he could manage. In truth he'd topped Severus exactly once and found it good, but not as good as being taken by Severus. Still, the idea of having Harry was an intriguing one, even more when combined with being taken by Severus, or perhaps being had by them both. Draco shook his head to clear it and smiled wryly, "I guess I'm just happier giving myself to Severus than the other way around."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I... I liked that a lot, but the other thing feels brilliant, too, having him all hot and tight..." Harry trailed off, swallowing and looking away, his cheeks decorated with fever-bright spots of red. "Well, anyway, I'm glad I got to try it both ways."

"He's going to give you a contract, Harry," said Draco gently. "Don't refuse it just because you think he'd rather have me."

Harry turned to stare, his face filled with shock and naked longing. "I won't, but... I know you, Draco. You won't give him up to me so easily, not now that you've found him again."

Draco shrugged; he'd hinted to Severus of a possible solution, but it was a risky one. "I've found you as well, though, haven't I?" was all he said.

* * *

They were back at the restaurant where the Courtship had begun so many weeks ago, sequestered in a private room without even a human waiter to overhear. "I find that now that my Courtship is nearly over, I have lost the taste for making speeches," said Severus, looking from face to face. He waved his hand and three heavy scrollcases appeared, one in front of each candidate. "I wish for you to have the meal to consider what I am Offering you," he explained, knowing that his nervousness was obvious to anyone who knew him as well as his final Candidates did.

He supposed it wouldn't be nearly as much of a surprise as the contents of the scrolls.

Augustus Trimble was the first to move, opening the carved and gilded wood case and drawing out the parchment inside. "I know that this is just a formality," he said, eyes glancing over the first few inches which, Severus knew, contained an outline of the pertinent points in the Offer, "but it is a very generous offer, and I and my family would be pleased to work out the details with you, if you are forced to settle for my poor third."

Severus took a sip of water to wet a throat gone dry; he'd tried not to be obvious, but he and Augustus were both practical men, and anyone with a brain could see that Severus' heart was lost to the other two at the table with them. "I would also welcome a match between us, Augustus," he said formally, the Suitor's way of saying that it wasn't over until it was over and the contracts were signed.

Severus glanced over at Harry and Draco, taking in the look of shocked delight on Draco's face, and confusion on Harry's. "Would you like to explain the nature of my Offer, Draco, or shall I enlighten Harry?" he asked, voice gratifyingly steady.

"I've got it, I think," said Harry, his own tone one of wonder and disbelief. He looked up at Severus with eyes that pled for it to be true as he said, "You've decided to ask us both to marry you, together, I mean."

"A union of three," said Draco with a smile that held equal parts smugness and affection. "I think that Harry's influence would manage to balance any ill repute still lingering around your name, wouldn't you say, Severus?"

Snape bowed his head in acknowledgement, though truthfully that consideration had constituted a mere fraction of his reasons for going this route. His decision had sprung from the feeling of Harry in his arms, the taste of Draco's kisses and the broad hints that Draco had dropped, as well as the longing looks Harry shot them both when he thought no one was looking. He swallowed again, taking a sip of wine this time to steady his nerves. "It was something of a risk to Offer for you both in this way," he said, glancing over at Augustus, who looked far too intrigued, "but I found my greed and affection for the two of you overrode any concerns, especially when weighed against the potential reward."

"Not to mention having a ready backup," said Augustus, his voice amused and admiring. "It's not so much traditionally ambitious, but only a Slytherin would think to try," he added, shaking his head with a wry smile.

Harry slipped the scroll back into its case and asked softly, "How long do I have to decide?"

"It is traditional," said Severus, knowing that this more than anything might be what lost him the joy of them both, all because he was unable to choose between them, "for the Candidates to accept or reject the offers at the end of the meal, though of course further negotiation on the finer points of the contract is to be expected."

Harry nodded. "Practically Gryffindor," he said, chuckling just a little to himself. "It takes guts to go for what you want against the odds, or so I've been told."

Draco put his scroll away as well and nodded. "You must know I've been hoping for this for some time now," he said, drawing a startled look from Harry.

"I am, in effect, only following the trail of breadcrumbs you've been leaving," said Severus, folding his hands in his lap to keep himself from fidgeting with the silver. "It is Harry I am unsure of, as he has participated from the start on the condition that he would not be expected to wed me, when all was said and done."

"Sometimes," said Harry very carefully, looking from Severus to Draco, "I'm a little slow."

They all laughed at that, and the tension broke. "Perhaps we should order, then?" said Severus, though his stomach was too knotted for much more than a few bites.

"Excellent idea," said Augustus, taking up his menu. Though Severus would pay for this as he had all the Courtship events, they were given their choice from a selection of three-course meals offered by the restaurant. Severus tried to think of it as symbolic of the choices they were all making, rather than akin to the last meal of the condemned.

They all went through the process of ordering, though Severus paid very little attention; he had other things to worry about than what they ate, for once. He treated himself to the seafood meal which included lobster bisque, seafood salad and a delicate shrimp and lobster pasta, things he could pick at and still seem as though he were eating. Once all the menus had vanished, they had no more excuses not to talk, and Severus cleared his throat.

"Did you have any other questions about the details, any of you?" asked Snape; a part of him had never expected to get this far, and he found himself out of clever tricks and left with nothing but himself to offer up, now that they'd come to the end of it.

Augustus spread his napkin over his lap and then asked seriously, "This isn't directly related, I suppose, but if they do accept, will you be able to continue to supply us with potions, at a reasonable mark-up?"

Snape nearly spoiled it by laughing at the absurdity of the question, though he supposed it was a legitimate one -- he wouldn't really need to work if he had Draco and Harry to support him, but he'd quickly grow bored and unhappy as a househusband, even with children around to keep him busy. "Yes, of course," he said, glancing over at Draco and Harry as he spoke. "I'll be more selective with my clientele, once I can afford to be, but you will always be welcome among my friends and customers both."

Augustus looked very satisfied with that answer, and began looking over his own Offer a little more closely.

Draco took up the thread then, asking not Severus but Harry, "Are you willing to come live in Malfoy Manor with me, I mean, with us?"

Harry blushed. "Of course," he said, pulling out his own scroll and looking over the summary once more. "As long as I can keep Hedwig and Algernon, anyway."

"Your pets are welcome," said Draco, his voice holding a note of comfort that tightened Severus' chest.

"I would never try to separate you from those you love," said Severus quietly, wishing he had food to pick at. "Not even Hagrid."

Harry laughed at that, which Severus couldn't quite interpret; he was saved when the scrollcases shifted to the centre of the table suddenly and the first course appeared. "This looks good," said Harry, at a loss with his hands full of his Offer and the case just out of arm's reach.

Trimble demonstrated silently, tapping the seal at the top of his own scroll with his wand, which sent it coiling back into the box on its own. Harry flushed and followed suit, then asked Severus, "So, what happens after your Offer is accepted?"

Severus' heart leapt into his throat, but he tried to treat the question as rhetorical. "After my Offer has been accepted, the first item that will be finalized is the wedding date. Once that has been agreed upon, we will spend many hours with our solicitors working out the finer points of the contract. We will no longer be allowed to," he paused to clear his throat, which had inexplicably become tight, "be intimate with one another, as it is traditional to abstain from now on, in order to better appreciate the wedding night."

"Wait, you mean we, I mean you, have to stop shagging now?" asked Harry, sounding exasperated enough that they all laughed, even him, if a bit belated and sheepishly.

"Yes, Harry, I will be celibate from this point until I am wed," said Severus, glancing around the table and feeling his cheeks heat as memories assailed him, each with its own kind of sweetness. "Fortunately, it is also traditional to have the wedding within a month of the Acceptance, to avoid long dithering over contracts, or other delays that might damage whatever goal the Candidate had in mind when the Courtship began."

"He's got us set for three weeks from Saturday, in the Offer," said Draco, licking his lips in what Severus found to be a thoroughly distracting manner, especially when Harry echoed the gesture.

Harry flushed inexplicably, but didn't actually say anything, instead putting a bite of seafood in his mouth resolutely. That seemed to be a cue, and they fell to, the conversation moving to more harmless topics like the quality of food and the general scope of culinary experiences Severus had shown them. Soon enough the salads vanished and there was a pause before the soups appeared, empty silence just waiting to be filled with something more significant than pasties and cake.

"If it's three of us," asked Harry, toying with the edge of the tablecloth, eyes fixed on his hands, "then I have to, um, have one. Get pregnant, I mean. Right?"

Severus and Draco exchanged a wordless glance that held a world full of meaning. "Although that is usually how things are done," said Snape, his voice carefully neutral, "it is not in the contract, no."

Harry's head shot up. "But I saw, I mean, it said one kid for each of us, as heirs."

"Yes, but in the fine print it states that any one of us may bear the heir for any other of us, so long as the child passes a magical paternity test to guarantee its legitimacy," said Severus, feeling at a loss when Harry's stare grew blank.

Draco laid a hand on Harry's arm and said, "It means, he wrote you in a way out. Any of us can carry your heir, as long as we can prove you're the dad."

"Oh! I... oh," said Harry, looking back down at his hands. "That's hardly fair, though, is it?"

"It's a choice you don't have to make tonight," said Severus, swallowing against his own fears. "When it comes time to have the Potter heir, then you can make the decision, once you've seen what it's like for me." That was one thing he'd specified, that his heir, the Prince heir, be their firstborn. He didn't want to have gone through all this, only to have it fall apart around them before he even had a chance to pass on his mother's heritage.

"A-all right," said Harry, nodding. He glanced up once, shyly, then sighed and sat back. "Is there anything in the contract I should really know about?"

Draco chuckled, and Severus couldn't blame him. Only someone like Harry would think to ask a man like Severus what secrets he'd hidden in the fine print. Fortunately for Harry, Severus had gone to painstaking lengths not to hide anything, not only because he knew Draco would find it anyway, but to keep hold of the trust he'd built with Harry over these weeks. 

Severus shook his head, smiling. "No, Harry, nothing beyond the obvious. We three will be equal partners in marriage. We will both live with Draco, though we are allowed to retain or sell our individual properties as we wish. We will maintain separate accounts for our personal funds, but the family will also have an account which will be used to raise and educate our three children, one heir for each of us, no more and no less. My heir will be born first, and yours last. Our individual fortunes will go first to our individual heirs, when the time comes." The soup arrived, startling them all. Severus cleared his throat, took a sip of his wine, and concluded, "There are other things, but it's all in the same vein."

Harry nodded pensively, toying with his soup, and Severus felt his tension ratchet up another notch. He resisted the urge to add a bit of Calming Draught to his own bisque, and instead took a sip of the rich, savoury concoction. "This is delicious, don't you think, Harry?"

Harry blushed and nodded, taking his first proper taste of it. The conversation eddied back to inconsequentials, though there was an underlying feeling of seriousness this time, comments made hinting toward this future or that, rather than dwelling on the recent past.

This time, when the food vanished, they all kept chatting through the break and the entree, until suddenly it was over, with nothing but pudding and decisions left. A small cake appeared before each of them, emblazoned with the Prince crest rather than Snape's, a show of confidence on his part that he would soon be able to legitimately use it, at least for his children. Severus raised his glass and spoke the traditional words, his stomach full of moths and heart in his throat, anxiety thrumming through his veins like he'd taken a dose of Electrifying Elixir. "From thirteen to three, you have allowed me to Court you, and soon, I hope, to wed. May our futures be bright, our lives long, and our endeavours fruitful."

"Hear, hear," they all toasted, the sweet wine going down in a single shot and not one of them leaving any in the glass.

Severus sighed and lifted his fork, bringing it down hard enough to break through the hard sugar seal into the sweet below. "And now, Harry, we have run out of time," he said, his voice heavy with something that wasn't regret yet, but was only biding its time.

Harry levitated the scrollcase into his lap, stroking the ornate carvings as though it was a pet. "What," he said with a shaky little smile, "I don't even get to enjoy my sweet first?"

Severus shook his head sadly, his own small appetite lost to the taste of ashes as he asked formally, "Harry Potter, will you consent to wed myself and Draco Malfoy, and to raise our heirs together in harmony?"

Harry's hand stopped, and he looked up, from Draco's carefully shuttered eyes to Severus' expression of naked hope, to Trimble's face which held a mix of resignation and sharp interest. He looked back at Snape and nodded once, slowly. "Yes, I, I... Yes."

There was a heartbeat of silence as it settled in, and then Draco was whooping as though he'd just won at Quidditch and hugging Harry, and Severus felt the tension draining away and leaving a sort of numb happiness in its wake. He turned to Trimble and said formally, "I hope our two houses will always be allied, Augustus."

"It is with regret that I cede the field to my two worthy adversaries," replied Trimble, not quite the traditional response, but one that showed he had truly valued Severus' Offer for what it was, and only regretted that he couldn't compete with Harry and Draco both.

With that they all broke into their cakes, Harry last and with a little effort, as he obviously hadn't realized the top wasn't just simple icing. He took a bite and grinned, his earlier moodiness dispelled as though it had never existed, now that the decision was made irrevocably. "This is good," he said, mouth still full and making a mush of the words.

Severus wondered what it was his life had come to, that he found it endearing. He looked over at Draco, only to find the same look in his eyes. As they both fell into laughter, Severus had his first real hope that things might just work out after all.


	9. Nuptial Bliss

_**Snape Courtship Snares Potter, Malfoy**  
by Rita Skeeter_

_In a shocking turn of events, Severus Snape's underdog Courtship, originally undertaken to reclaim the right to his mother's bloodline for his heir, has ended with him catching not one but two of the wizarding world's most eligible bachelors. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have both agreed to marry the infamous Death Eater and spy, making this reporter wonder what Snape's got hiding under those robes of his._

_Augustus Trimble, the third to receive an Offer from the notorious Snape, only commented that they all three were getting what they deserved. Perhaps there's trouble in paradise even before the altar, or maybe there's more to Snape than meets the eye. Rumour has it that Snape will still be providing Trimble's Toes with potions, despite their failed romance._

_Most of the other Candidates were unavailable for comment, though Hepsibeth Hungerford had no qualms about being quoted saying, "It was obvious from the start that something was going on with the three of them. Potter and Malfoy spent the whole first dinner thick as thieves, when everyone knows they hated one another in school." Ms. Hungerford chose to leave after the first round when it became obvious she'd best get out early, or end up heartbroken and jilted like so many others._

_Euthanasia Flourish, cousin to the Diagon Alley booksellers, was among those tossed aside by Snape in his haste to wed above his station. "I accepted after the first round," she told us tearfully, "but he sent back a rejection. My good friend Amelia Malkin was rejected in the next round, even after he was so charming to us both."_

"I can't read any more of this drivel," said Severus, rolling his eyes and tossing the front page to Draco.

"You know you always wanted to be called, how did she phrase it, 'a dark Lothario collecting broken hearts on a string'," said Draco with a chuckle.

"Did you get to the part where she accuses you of dosing us both?" said Harry, laying down the sports section. "The Kestrels have been winning all season, it looks like Gaerwn made the right choice for himself."

"I believe we have all made the right choices," said Severus, and Harry couldn't help but return the smile. It wasn't as rare as it had once been, but he and Draco still had to take turns coaxing them out of Severus, who wasn't yet accustomed to savouring his joys.

Not that he was allowed the joy of them until the wedding, a fact which was beginning to chafe on Harry a lot more than he'd expected. "How many days until the wedding again?"

Draco laughed, and Harry made a face at him. "Eight -- one less than yesterday. Though it'll be more if your solicitor is late again and we can't get our contracts finalized today."

Harry flushed. "Sorry, I... I didn't know who to hire, so I just picked a name out of the back of the _Prophet_."

"You could have asked us," said Severus, sounding as affronted as he usually did when the subject came up.

Harry shrugged. "So, next time I'll ask you. Your solicitors have been keeping him in line, anyway, except for the tardiness thing. And I can't fire him now, we'd have to start over."

"Which we don't have time for, if we're to get everything done that needs to be done for our wedding to be a success," said Draco, thumbing open the day planner that he'd been using to keep them all in line. Despite Severus' recent experience planning events, he'd gladly ceded the duties to Draco, who was making them both work for their small, private celebration. "We have robe fittings at four o'clock and not a minute later, I had to beg to get an appointment that late as it is."

"Poppycock," said Severus, nibbling on a biscuit and sipping his tea. "You know very well they'd bend over backwards in order to be known as the outfitters of our infamous wedding."

Harry snorted, and might have said more, but just then a chime sounded and a voice announced the arrival of, thankfully, all three solicitors in the Apparition chamber. "I always did wonder how you knew I was here," said Harry, getting up and dusting biscuit crumbs off his trousers. "I'll go lead them in, shall I? To make up for Myron's general uselessness."

"We'll let you," said Draco with a grin, and Harry shook his head and walked out, grateful that all the time he'd spent visiting Draco these past weeks meant he probably wouldn't get lost. Much.

* * *

"I can't believe she tried to sneak into our wedding," said Harry disgustedly, flopping onto the chaise lounge in Draco's room. Which was now their room, with the ink barely dry on their marriage contracts and the reception yet to come.

Draco joined him rather more gracefully, giving him a kiss full of promise before saying, "Well, Rita Skeeter was never known for her discretion."

"You were smart to insist on those Animagus wards," said Severus, joining them both. "She'll be explaining herself to the Aurors long enough that the wedding will be old news when she's done."

Harry passed Draco's kiss on to Severus, arousal hitting him as he realized that they were married now, and they were very nearly done having to wait. He could have them both, give himself up to them, very, very soon. "Don't we have time before the reception?" he begged, undulating between them in what he hoped was a sexy manner.

Draco chuckled wickedly and Severus let out a little moan as Harry's arse brushed over his cock in a long glide. "You know we don't," said Severus, nipping at Harry's ear anyway. "We have to change out of our wedding robes and into normal dress robes."

"I have to be naked with you and not make l-love?" moaned Harry, stammering a little over the last word. It wasn't something they'd discussed properly, though it was clear to Harry that Severus and Draco cared for each other more than a little, and he held a tiny fire of hope that they'd grow to love him someday, too.

He tried not to think too much about his own feelings, to keep from being too disappointed if they weren't returned.

Draco slid his hand down the front of Harry's ornate wedding robes, the stiff gold-embroidered white silk parting to reveal the thin underrobe he'd worn beneath it to protect his skin from the rough gold threads. "You won't be naked," said Draco, nuzzling at his neck.

"We'll make love soon," said Severus, giving Harry's cock a teasing little squeeze, then getting up and slipping out of his own robes.

"Leave them on the bed, the elves will frame them and put them in the reception hall," said Draco, pulling Harry up and out of his robes, so he was standing in the wrinkled silk looking flushed and feeling a bit chill.

Harry stretched once, a feat that had been impossible in the heavy wedding garments, and then padded over to the wardrobe. "We agreed to all wear the grey, didn't we?" he asked, though of course their formal robes were hanging ready right in front. Harry's were a pale greenish grey shot with gold, Draco's a silvery middle grey that brought out his eyes, and Severus' a deep charcoal that seemed to hint at thunderclouds.

"You know we did," teased Draco, coming forward in his own white shift to steal another kiss and claim his clothing. "Now get dressed so we can go be tediously social, and then I can finally get that lovely cock of yours properly up my arse."

Harry laughed, blushing; he knew that Severus and Draco had some sort of plan for their wedding night, but he'd been too embarrassed to ask the details so they teased him with little hints here and there. "I'd wish we'd left time before the reception, but I know once I have you two in bed I won't want to let you go again for days," he said, slipping into the much softer silk velvet of his new robes.

"Excellent," said Severus, finally joining them after having laid all three of their wedding vestments out on the bed neatly. "We'll all be in agreement to refuse visitors for at least a week, then."

Harry laughed; he knew they were worried he'd overrun the house with Weasleys or something, but in reality he saw his husbands -- and wasn't that a thought to make him pause? -- far more often than his old school friends. "Best honeymoon ever," he teased, going to the mirror to see how bad his hair was today. Whatever Draco's stylist had done made it seem more messy-on-purpose rather than just hopeless, and Harry could only be grateful that it hadn't magically grown itself back yet.

"I'm sure it will be," purred Severus, setting his long hair around him now that he'd switched robes. Their shoes were charmed to match whatever they were wearing, soft boots that had held up well during the ceremony and would, Harry hoped, still be comfortable after far too long at the reception.

At this point, he was counting the minutes until they could get away, and they weren't even there yet.

"All right," said Draco, arranging his own hair with a practiced flip and pat, "let's go. The sooner we start, the sooner we can get back up here and fuck."

Harry flushed and laughed, and tried not to be disheartened by Draco's choice of words.

* * *

Severus had been starting to worry that they'd never escape all the Weasleys, each one with some piece of advice for Harry and twice as much for himself and Draco. Not to mention the plethora of creative threats, should they break his heart or otherwise allow him to come to even as much harm as a splinter or stubbed toe. There had been other guests as well, every one of them wanting a word about this or that with the grooms, but finally Gaerwn came to their rescue and helped them to escape to the safety of their chambers.

Though eager enough to leave, Harry surprised Severus by being the one to drag his feet on the way back to their bed. "Are you sure we should leave first?" he asked as they made their way through the maze of corridors separating the ballroom from the privacy of their master suite.

"Everyone expects us to be eager to get on with the wedding night," said Draco, loosening the collar of his robes. "Though I am glad Gaerwn came to our rescue, we'll owe him something for that."

"But, I mean, what if someone strays back here and, you know, sees?" said Harry nervously.

Severus held open the door to their parlour and said in a low, sensual voice, "I assure you, there are precautions in place to prevent such an eventuality that make the wards on the ceremony seem like Spellotape and string."

Harry swallowed, and Severus gave in to his odd, protective urge, gathering Harry close in his arms. "We'll take good care of you, Harry," he whispered into the messy hair, stroking one cheek gently.

Draco moved up behind Harry, adding to the warmth and comfort of their embrace. "We're going to make love to you, as your husbands, isn't that what you've wanted?" he asked gently, a tiny note of doubt in his voice that tugged at Severus' heart. Draco had always longed for Harry's regard, and it hurt to see him still chasing after it, even now.

Harry shook his head, then tilted his face up to Severus', practically begging for a kiss. "I'm sorry, it's not... I'm more worried I'll screw things up, and you'll both regret you included me," he said, his expression raw and open.

Severus pressed his lips to Harry's, chaste and warm, as much comfort as passion. He had a flash of insight, remembering Harry's neediness from their time together, and the insecurity that had come right along with it. "Do you imagine I would risk everything I'd worked for if I hadn't come to love you?" said Severus, seeing from the hope in Harry's eyes that he'd guessed the true reason for Harry's nerves.

"Oh, Harry, how could we not, how could _I_ not love you?" said Draco, his voice devoid of its earlier teasing.

Harry twisted around enough to claim another kiss from Draco, a shudder running through his body. Very softly, as though he still expected his words to be thrown back at him, he said, "I knew I was falling in love with you both, I just hadn't... I didn't know."

"We should have told you," said Severus, cursing himself for a fool; he could see now that he'd almost lost his chance at Harry, they both had, because they'd been too dense to reassure him in this one simple thing. Harry wasn't like them, he had never learned to rely on subtle cues and the teasing formed from long friendship, to glean someone's meaning from implication rather than explication.

"We will, from now on," said Draco, taking another kiss, this one hotter and more sensual.

Harry's cheeks flushed and his breath caught, and then it was Severus' turn to steal those lips, deepening their kiss until Harry was moaning softly under his breath, melting into them both. "Then it really will be making love," he murmured, head lolling back as Severus' lips travelled down his throat, renewing their acquaintance with the territory they'd mapped so thoroughly the first time.

Severus privately thought that Harry's brains must already be melted from their proximity, for him to say such a foolish thing. And that his own had obviously followed suit, since he found a part of himself agreeing with the ridiculous sentiment. Instead of answering, he began to unfasten Harry's robes, sucking love bites onto the pale skin as he exposed it, leaving a trail as he fell to his knees. Severus and Draco, reluctant to leave such an important night to chance, had devised a strategy for winning Harry over; Draco smoothly divested Harry of his robe as soon as Severus had the buttons all undone, shedding his own robe as well and then coming back for more.

Severus mouthed along the waistband of Harry's pants, then rubbed his cheek against Harry's length, pausing to inhale the scent of him, tantalizingly familiar and yet still new after their single encounter. One of Harry's hands threaded into his hair, a glance up showing the other one had found Draco's hair, just as Harry and Draco's mouths had found one another. The sight of them together stole Severus' breath away with the knowledge that they were both his, that he'd wagered everything he had and come away with a prize worth all he'd risked and more.

Draco's graceful hands plucked at Harry's nipples, teasing the tiny nubs to hardness and getting little gasps from Harry that escaped between their kisses. Severus watched a moment more, then turned his attention to his own task, getting Harry properly naked so they could lure him to the bed and ravish him. He got Harry's boots and socks off, tossing them aside for the elves to deal with, then slid his hands up to the waistband of Harry's boxers. "Ready?"

Harry blinked down at Severus for a few long moments before nodding, everything about him showing just how ready he was from his glazed expression and flushed cheeks to the erection pressing against the damp front of his pants. Severus kissed the wet spot, tasting salt and need, then pulled them slowly down, acutely aware that he was the only one left dressed and finding it terribly arousing in a way that would definitely need exploring at a later date. "I want to see you like this," said Severus, licking a wet stripe up Harry's shaft, "in our bed, with our husband."

"Only if you join us, husband," said Draco teasingly, peering over Harry's shoulder while his hands roamed over Harry's naked body in a distinctly proprietary manner.

"Yes," said Harry breathily, and then, "Please," for good measure, fingers skimming over Severus' cheekbone in a clumsy caress as Draco pulled him backwards toward the conveniently turned-down bed.

Severus grinned, capturing the fingers and kissing them before letting them go. "Of course," he said, rising from his kneeling position to watch them.

Draco managed to divest himself of his pants with something resembling grace, and then he tugged Harry into the bed with him, posing them both in an erotic display. Severus could only be happy that it was intended not to merely tease but entice him, and once again marvelled at the phenomenal luck that had brought him to this pass.

Draco kissed Harry with a wonder that was only hours old, and they lost themselves in each other with an intensity that stole Severus' breath away. He'd been with each of them, but this was their first real taste of each other, and he was almost reluctant to intrude. He watched for long moments as they became more and more entwined, legs tangling and arms embracing, hands finding their way over unfamiliar contours as they learned the shape and way of one another. Severus gasped along with Draco as Harry's fingers skimmed over one sensitive hipbone, drawing Severus' attention back to his own need. For once in his life he was not relegated to the role of voyeur, but belonged in the bed with the objects of his desire, and he wasn't about to let that go.

"How could any man resist?" said Severus, drawing their attention back to him as he waved his wand over himself in a move he'd been practicing just for this moment when it would, he hoped, impress his young spouses. His clothing vanished, each piece going to the appropriate hamper or cupboard, leaving him entirely nude except for his hair, which fell around him in a curtain now that the tie had been banished with the rest. He'd thought about preparing his body further, trying to add some colour to his pale skin or muscle to his thin frame, but in the end he decided it would be pointless. They had both agreed to marry the man he was, and nothing he could have done in these few weeks would have changed that.

Severus simply had to go against all his instincts and trust that his husbands truly cared for him, and wanted the unattractive and unpleasant man he was, rather than anything he could achieve with artifice.

The heat in their eyes was answer enough, and he was amused as always by the way Draco's eyes kept dragging down to his erection, while Harry's looked hungrily into his face, seeking approval first and pleasure second. Severus stalked to the bed and slipped in next to Harry, pulling the sheet over them to ward off any chill. He ran a hand down Draco's side, then up Harry's, marvelling in the difference in their skin, Draco's smooth like fine silk and Harry's warmer and rougher, like cotton worn to touchable softness.

Rather than speak and spoil whatever moment they were building together, Severus began to kiss the nape of Harry's neck, tasting the skin there and giving Draco tacit permission to continue learning the way of Harry, now that they finally could. Severus used his hands to find all those places he'd mapped out on each of them, showing them both by silent example and getting a lovely chorus of moans and whimpers for his reward. They weren't touching him, much, but he couldn't blame them -- in a way they'd already had their wedding nights with him, but they'd been dancing around each other for nearly a decade and a half, moving in fitful steps toward this inevitable conclusion.

Severus wouldn't hesitate when it came time make himself a part of the consummation, but he wouldn't begrudge them these moments, either. Eventually Severus' fingers found their way to Draco's entrance, finding him closed and dry but eager for Severus' touches. This was something else he could give them, and take for himself as well, and he rolled away long enough to retrieve the potion he'd prepared just for tonight. He sat and watched them for long moments as he slicked up fingers on both hands, admiring the contrast between Draco's natural pallor and Harry's sun-burnished skin, though the bronze was beginning to fade now that he'd left the jungle behind.

Draco's fingers danced gracefully over Harry's flesh, while Harry's used his whole hands to feel every centimetre of Draco's body. Their mouths met and clashed and pulled apart for one or the other of them to gasp or pant or moan, Harry biting his lip when the pleasure grew too great and Draco kissing the small hurt away each time. Their cocks strained against one another, hiding in the space between their bodies and only giving Severus tantalizing peeks at a slick head or smooth shaft. When Harry's fingers dragged over one of Draco's nipples, Severus took the resultant sibilant hiss as his cue.

Severus moved forward again, cradling his body against Harry's back and letting his fingers find their own way into Draco's sleek crease, the potion coating them with enough slickness to ease his way inside with a single stroke of his longest finger. Draco moaned, and Severus felt Harry shiver against him.

"Will you be inside him?" asked Harry, turning his head to claim a kiss while Draco writhed under their combined ministrations, too lost in pleasure for something so mundane as kissing.

Severus shook his head and murmured, "I'll be inside you," against Harry's lips, his cock slipping easily to rest in the cleft of Harry's fine arse as he spoke. He kissed Harry deeply and then whispered, "You'll be inside him."

Harry's whimper was worth the wait, and another shiver ran through his compact body, sending a thrill up Severus' spine as well. "Soon," gasped Draco, and Severus obliged him with a second finger, though he avoided overstimulating him, not wanting any of them to find their ending too swiftly.

"God, I hope so," said Harry, and Severus had to hold back a snort.

Instead he gave a thrust of his hand hard enough to make Draco whimper, and whispered, "Very soon," in Harry's ear, getting an answering whimper from Harry as well.

Severus pulled his fingers out and slipped his hand between the two young bodies, finding Harry's erection and stroking the potion along his whole length. He didn't have Severus' girth, and so Severus judged that Draco was well prepared, pulling away from them both just enough. "You know what to do," he said, hoping that Draco had held onto enough of his faculties to remember the position they'd agreed upon.

Draco nodded and rolled onto his back, tugging Harry with him so they were face to face with Harry cradled between his parted thighs. "Make love to me, Harry," he said, eyes fixed on Harry's.

Snape sat back and watched avidly as Harry positioned himself with one shaking hand, eyes wavering between Draco's loving gaze and his greedy arse. "I'm a bit bollocks at this still," he said with a nervous laugh, finally getting the ruddy head of his prick fitted to Draco's pink entrance, pushing until one disappeared into the other, until they were both lost to sight as Harry's full length sank into Draco's willing body.

"You're, fuck, good enough for me," gasped Draco, legs and arms wrapping briefly around Harry, mouth claiming a kiss, taking this one moment just for the two of them alone.

Severus stroked potion over his own erection while they kissed, open-mouthed and nearly as obscene as the sight of Harry entering Draco, in its own way. Their hips stayed still, Draco adjusting to Harry's cock, the two of them adjusting to the idea, the permission to have one another, to love one another. Countless heartbeats later, they parted and turned as one to look at Severus, a sensual smile alighting on Draco's kiss-bruised lips to go with the joyful grin on Harry's.

"Ready for me to join you?" asked Severus, holding his hand up to show the slickness glistening on his fingers, then sliding it down over his cock, pulling back the foreskin to show off the purple head.

He was rewarded with identical moans that he chose to take as an affirmative even before Harry said, "Oh, yes."

Severus moved in, repositioning Draco's legs and Harry's as well and getting more moans as the movements forced Harry deeper into Draco's body. He couldn't resist a few caresses to the place where they were joined before his fingers travelled upward, one finding Harry's entrance and pushing its way inside. Harry shivered and Snape hurried, coaxing him to open for two and then three fingers, his own control nearly breaking at the thought that they were delaying their own consummation for him. That there might never have been one, if it wasn't for him bringing them together, for Draco showing him that he could have both, have everything he'd ever dreamed of and more.

Harry whimpered when Severus moved his fingers away, and whispered, "Oh, yes," as Snape rubbed his cockhead teasingly over Harry's entrance.

"Very much yes," said Severus hoarsely, sliding slowly inside, hips moving inexorably forward until he was buried to the root, bollocks resting against Harry's, knees pressing up against Draco's arse.

Severus kissed up Harry's spine and then whispered, "Just move with me." That might be harder than it sounded with Draco folded nearly in half and Harry spread wide above him and inside him, but Severus was confident that they were all extremely well-motivated.

He pulled out as slowly as he'd slid in, but this time Harry came with him until they were all barely joined, a string of pleasure from one to the next made of flesh and blood and need. He thrust in, just a little faster this time, and they all groaned.

"Fuck, so good," whispered Draco, and Severus let himself gasp for a long moment before repeating the trick, faster each time until they'd established something like rhythm.

From the sound of things it wouldn't need to last long this first time, all three of them so wound up that it wasn't going to take much to set them off. Severus might have been surprised at how smoothly it all was going if he hadn't worked so hard to make it so, and instead he let himself be lost in the sensations, ears filled with a chorus of delight, the scent of sex rising up to his nose, the taste of Harry's skin his for the taking, the feel of Harry's body and Draco's undulating beneath it, around it, each little gasp and wriggle making Harry tighten around Severus. He let his eyes close to experience it better, let his forehead rest against Harry's shoulder and moved, and moved, and moved.

It was Harry who faltered first, voice growing desperate and thrusts rough and erratic now, slipping away from Severus' rhythm to some inner beat, the voice of his own need. He slammed into Draco harder and harder and Severus obliged by meeting him with hard thrusts of his own, until Harry stilled with a strangled cry, finding his release in the arms of his new husbands.

Severus kept thrusting, sending shiver after shiver of pleasure through Harry as his orgasm drew itself out, finally sparking Draco's release as well. Harry's pleasure was intoxicating, his body addictive, and Severus opened his eyes just long enough to see Draco's face transported before letting himself find his own ending in Harry's body. He lost heartbeats of time when there was nothing but pleasure, and when he came down his first thought was that their marriage bed was well and truly made.

Severus was sure that, once they untangled and cleaned themselves a little, they'd demand to know why he was laughing. He could already tell that he wouldn't mind sharing, especially if it led to more brilliant sex.


	10. Epilogue

Harry lounged on the chaise that sentiment had allowed them to bring from Severus' house and into the nursery. He tended toward the nostalgic these days, unless they were foolish enough to call him on it, in which case he could demonstrate that he'd learned quite a lot from years of listening to Severus' sharp tongue.

"I can't believe it's been five years," said Harry, looking around the sunlit room.

Draco looked up from where he'd been trying to dress his wriggling heir and said amusedly, "I could check the calendar again, I suppose, but I'm pretty sure that's what the party is for."

Harry snorted. "Why did we have to hold a big party while I'm like this, again?" he asked, gesturing toward the stomach that was just starting to distend visibly in his loose robes.

"Because the idiots at the Ministry decided they knew better than we what 'a reasonable period of time' was to produce the third heir and properly populate the world with Potters," said Snape, adjusting his own son's robes carefully. Aegeus Prince was nearly four and already a bit of a terror, while Proteus Malfoy was barely 18 months, and Harry was six months along with the future Thaniel Potter, and very cranky about the whole affair, despite having volunteered to do his duty and carry his own child.

Still, he was nothing compared to the way Severus had been during his term, so Draco mostly watched with amused affection. And learned to duck, after Harry began spontaneously casting when he was upset, around four months in. "Because you look wonderful in your new robes, and we'll be there to support you," said Draco, bringing Proteus over to kiss his Daddy Harry. "Besides, they've got pictures of the two of us looking like Soft-Bellied Spherical Cetaceans. Now it's your turn."

Harry might have objected, but Proteus was a dependable cure for nearly all of Harry's moods. Proteus cuddled right up on Harry's far side and planted a wet kiss on Harry's cheek, and Harry smiled and carefully smoothed down the hair that gave Draco no doubt at all who had been the other father in his case. "You won't be the only one waddling about at the party anyway, Hermione's even further along," said Severus, leading Aegeus over to offer his own form of comfort to his Daddy.

Aegeus fixed his soft grey eyes on Harry and then said, "I think you look prettiest when you're mad and you glow."

They all laughed, except for Proteus, who kicked off one shoe, fell asleep and began drooling on Harry's party robes. 

"We will appreciate your cooperation properly tonight," said Severus, giving Harry a much different sort of cheering look, eyes travelling over his body to rest on the one part of Harry that was most definitely still very masculine. He sat at Harry's feet and began to rub them, another time-tested way of getting Harry to relax.

Harry sighed and snuggled Proteus a little closer. "I hate that you have to manage me," he said, holding out his other arm for Aegeus to clamber up and snuggle. "I can't wait until this is over and I can hold Thaniel in my arms instead of having him kick me in the bladder."

Draco snorted. "He'll just kick you from the outside instead, you know."

Harry chuckled, and Draco kissed him, looking around at their little family, draping Harry with love from head to toe. There had been difficult times and there undoubtedly would be more, especially with Rita Skeeter doing an article on the party and Harry still shaky on the whole concept of diapers, but Draco couldn't bring himself to mind it much. Thanks to Severus, Draco had finally found the things that had been missing his whole life -- a family who loved him unconditionally, two husbands who shagged him into the mattress, and a sense of home that went beyond ancestry or breeding, though they had earned both in spades for their sons.

Draco didn't know if his own father would have been proud of what he'd done with the Malfoy name, fortune and bloodline, but he knew he was, and that was what mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE do not this fic to GoodReads! Nothing makes me want to delete everything more than having my fic life outed in a non-fandom space.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [the lost portrait](https://archiveofourown.org/works/121479) by [megyal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal)




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